WKite Armor 




Class OvT Z.1 5 



Book 



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COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 




CAPTAIN ARTHUR ELLIS HAMM 



IN WHITE ARMOR 

THE LIFE OF 

CAPTAIN ARTHUR ELLIS HAMM 

326TH INFANTRY, UNITED STATES ARMY 



BY 

ELIZABETH CREEVEY HAMM 



ILLUSTRATED 



Ubc fmtcfeerbocfter press 

NEW YORK 
1919 



.H35^ 3 



Copyright, 1919 

BY 

ELIZABETH CREEVEY HAMM 



©CI.A53 6 010 
DC! -I ! 9i9 



fit 



MY HUSBAND 



And one there was among us, ever moved 
Among us in white armor ; Galahad. 
' God make thee good as thou art beautiful 1 ' 
Said Arthur when he dubbed him knight. ." 



FOREWORD 

Captain Arthur Ellis Hamm was killed in 
action on the Lorraine front on September 14, 
191 8, a few weeks after his twenty-sixth birthday. 
That is an age at which many life-histories are just 
beginning to be written, but, saith the Book of 
Wisdom, "Honorable old age is not that which 
standeth in length of time, nor is its measure given 
by number of years." 

Captain Hamm's achievement in his short span 
of life was so remarkable, and his personality was 
so complete, that I am justified in publishing this 
sketch of his life and character. 

He was an ideal American soldier — one of two 
million such perhaps — but by virtue of his dash 
and brilliancy and remarkable beauty he may well 
stand for the type of all that is best in the Ameri- 
can, man or soldier. ' He was physical perfection, 
tall, slender, and of kingly bearing. His carriage 
was erect and easy, every muscle fit and supple for 
chivalrous service. His hair was chestnut brown 
with glints of gold, his eyebrows were black and 
drawn with a master sweep of the Great Painter's 



vi Foreword 

brush, and his deep-set eyes were a peculiar shade of 
dark, warm gray. The strong lines in his cheeks 
deepened into dimples when he laughed, as he did 
a great deal. Altogether his was a figure of distinc- 
tion and a face of powerful magnetism, a face in 
which fire and sweetness, gentleness and strength 
were blended. 

Arthur Hamm typified the best of Americanism 
in that he was in every fiber a self-made man. 
The forces which made him were his own inner 
forces, that America simply gave him the oppor- 
tunity to develop and wield. His personality was 
vivid, and has left in the hearts of those who knew 
him a rare vision of human grace and beauty. He 
seemed to them a shining ray of youth and sun- 
light struck aslant the world, lent to us for a brief 
space, too rare and lovely to endure. " Being 
made perfect, in a little while he fulfilled long years; 
for his soul was pleasing unto the Lord; therefore 
hasted he out of the midst of wickedness." 

His marriage was the culmination of his life, 
and it has been impossible to write of him without 
regard to his great and tender love of wife and 
home. From the few letters I have selected to 
share, I could not altogether cut the personal 
note, without wholly losing Arthur. He himself 
mounted a high tower like the Muezzin of the 



Foreword vii 

Orient, and proclaimed his love for me to East, 
West, North, and South! 

The influences of his early life I could only 
indicate, for Arthur came into my own life at the 
moment of complete manhood. I recall his saying 
to me one evening in Florida, during the first week 
of our friendship : 

"If I were to tell you all the things I have done 
during the past ten years you would think me forty 
years old, which in truth I sometimes feel. And 
at that I am only on the threshold of my real 
career. " 

' ' When did you do that ? " I had asked him. ' ' I 
thought you were going up the coast on a Clyde 
Line boat in 191 5. And how in the world did you 
ever have time to indulge in typhoid fever? " 

I still do not see how he had time to crowd so 
many adventures into so short a space, and if I 
were to attempt to follow out in detail the life- 
story that came to me bit by bit, it would take as 
many volumes as for a "Jean-Christophe. " He 
started at fourteen years of age on his life-quest, 
a quest which culminated ten years later in an ideal 
love, and was soon thereafter crowned with martyr- 
dom. I have likened this time of spiritual growth 
and progression to that quest of Arthur's knights 
of old, adventure upon adventure leading toward 



viii Foreword 

one definite and pure ideal, and I have chosen the 
quotations to head each chapter from the Idylls 
of the King, all but two which are from Tennyson's 
Sir Galahad. Those myths of the past are the 
symbol of all our human struggle onward, but 
Arthur's pilgrimage was remarkable because he 
never set himself a purpose that went unfulfilled, 
never knew defeat of soul, and moved steadily on 
and on to a splendid and heroic climax. 

There are men who have fought and died in this 
war who met the call to patriotism and man- 
hood with a sudden leap to greatness and have 
thereby found redemption. The night before my 
husband sailed for France he said: "Remember, 
that if I should die in action, it is after all, a pretty 
good way to square accounts with the world. " 

But for Arthur Hamm there were no accounts to 
square. 






CONTENTS 



L- 


— Boyhood .... 




1 


II.- 


—Youth . 




16 


III.- 


—Romance 




28 


IV.- 


—Marriage 




49 


V.- 


i 
—Gamp Gordon . 




56 


VI.- 


—Gladys .... 




67 


VII.- 


—Discipline 




76 


/IIL- 


- Practical Psychology 




85 


IX.- 


—Fortitude 




93 


X.- 


— Parlez-vous Franc ais? 




103 


XI.- 


—Reviews and Dances 




108 


XII.- 


—Ave Atque Vale 




121 


^IIL- 


-"Over There" . 




133 




The Last Chapter . 




. 172 




A Tribute to Captain Hamm bi 
Chaplain Hyman, 3 26th Infantry 


1 

183 




Recommendation for D. S. C. 


, 


. 185 



ILLUSTRATIONS 



FACING 
PAGE 



Captain Arthur Ellis Hamm . Frontispiece 

Arthur Ellis Hamm — Age 6 ... 2 

Our Wedding Day 50 

Diamonds in the Rough . . . . .60 

Gladys and 0' Grady . . . . . .68 

Sergeants of Company M 78 

Company M, 326th Infantry, Passing in 

Review at Piedmont .... 82 

Trenches at Camp Gordon .... 88 

Billy and Beth 100 

Captain Arthur Ellis Hamm . . .104 

A Week-end Group at 35 Oakland Road . 114 

An Ideal American Soldier . . .146 

A Galahad in Khaki . . . .174 



XI 



In White Armor 



CHAPTER I 

BOYHOOD 

"Some called him son of Launcelot, and some said 
Begotten by enchantment." 

Arthur Ellis Hamm was born at Groveland, 
Massachusetts, on June 29, 1892. His parents 
were both of undiluted English descent, the 
mother's name, White, having first reached these 
shores on that commodious ship, the Mayflower. 
He was the English type of American, tall and 
slender and aristocratic, with a lean face and 
determined jaw. As a little boy he was already 
handsome and upstanding, generous and high 
spirited. 

Arthur and his older brother were brought up 
and sent to church like true little descendants of 
the Puritans, in the town of Stoneham, whither 
Arthur was transported at the age of three. His 
father was a manufacturer of soap, and the family 



2 In White Armor 

struggled with poverty and with despotic tyranny. 
The children adored their mother, championed 
her and protected her, but could find no ground for 
love or respect toward their father. When a very 
litte boy Arthur was obliged to assert his will 
against his father, and even — a soul-searing ex- 
perience for a twelve-year-old child — to threaten 
his life. 

He had thrown a stone one day, accidentally 
breaking a window. His father dragged him 
roughly to the barn, by no means for the first time 
on slight provocation, there stripped the boy 
to the waist, and brought a horsewhip down 
across his shoulders. Arthur's brain reeled. He 
slipped like an eel from his father's grasp, flung 
himself upon his rifle, which hung upon two nails 
on the wall of the barn, levelled it steadily, and 
cried: "Put up that whip! Now go out of here 
ahead of me, and quick too!" When he replaced 
the rifle and dressed himself, Arthur was white 
and shaking, the tears running down his cheeks, 
but he had won a victory. Courage and justice 
had met brute force and conquered. He was 
thereafter the ruling spirit in his home. To 
multiply instances of his unhappy boyhood would 
only be distressing. But from such surroundings 
and out of such conditions many a great American 




ARTHUR ELLIS HAMM— AGE 6 



Boyhood 3 

has come. The American boy has the immeasur- 
able advantage over the boys of other races and 
countries — in that he can make his life anything 
he pleases, if only he has the inheritance of good 
blood and sturdy character. 

No little boy, in whatever environment, can 
be altogether unhappy, and Arthur was active 
and joyous by temperament. He was a favorite 
in school, where he showed all the qualities of a 
born leader, and both in Sunday school and day 
school he struggled against the opprobrium of 
being a "teacher's pet." "I hated Sunday school 
like the dickens," he said, "and yet I took a 
concealed joy in being arrayed in my Sunday suit, 
and in kid gloves that hung off the fingers. I was 
glorified in the sight of all grown-ups, and humil- 
iated in the sight of my equals. I could hold my 
own on week-days by a fair exchange of lickings, 
but on Sundays I was at a terrible disadvantage." 

He was a splendid marksman, and loved his 
rifle, but in the ordinary sense of the word, he was 
not a "sportsman." An experience that he had 
as a boy of thirteen cured him of all desire to aim 
at living targets. It is one of the few incidents 
of his boyhood that Arthur told me about in 
detail. 

"I had a new rifle," he said. "Had only shot 



4 In White Armor 

the thing off a few times at a target in the field 
back of our house, and this was my first trip with it 
to the woods. Right off I saw a little chickadee, 
cutest thing ever, singing so hard that all the 
feathers of its throat were ruffled out like a tiny 
feather boa. It must have been singing to its 
mate. Without one thought of what I was doing, 
I raised my rifle and fired. It was some shot, too, 
for the little chap's head was clean severed from 
his body. I threw myself down on the grass and 
cried and cried. It cured me of any love of 
'sport,' for the only protection that a woods crea- 
ture has against you is its fear, and a frightened 
rabbit or squirrel is a piteous thing. Its heart 
beats like the mischief, and you have either to 
shoot it in the back or when it is running away 
from you. I'd as soon shoot a man facing me 
with a gun in his hand as eat my dinner, but as 
it happens, I haven't had to do that yet." 

Arthur could not bear to see suffering, much less 
to inflict it, but his was not the sensitivity that 
turns away from painful things. He was quick 
to run to the help and relief of pain. His sym- 
pathy was of the sort that asks: "What can I 
do?" And to "do" something was Arthur's 
instinct in any situation. He was gentle, sensi- 
tive, and a dreamer, both in boyhood and in man- 



Boyhood 5 

hood, but he always set about to make his dreams 
come true, and his initiative carried him to the 
solution of many a tough proposition. "Aggres- 
sive" men called him, a fighter, a dynamic 
force, and a leader of men, and yet he kept those 
qualities that we do not always associate with 
strong and masterful men, sympathy and con- 
sideration for all men, and a deep, unchanging 
tenderness. 

In his fifteenth year came the tragedy and 
turning point of Arthur's life. "The bottom 
fell out of everything." His sweet and beautiful 
mother died, a woman still in her thirties, of rare 
and exquisite nature, whose love alone had made 
home tolerable. It was a tremendous moral 
crisis for Arthur, and the one great grief of his 
life. The warring elements within him might 
easily have been harmful to his growth, but 
Arthur took his mother's image to his heart, and 
made of it a symbol and a constructive force. 
In her name he decided to give the happiness she 
had missed to some other woman, and from out 
the dissensions and misery of his own boyhood's 
home, he built up an ideal of how things ought to 
be. From that moment forward, Arthur directed 
and ordered his life with spiritual Love held 
steadily before him as its end and aim, and though 



6 In White Armor 

in the course of his pilgrimage he came to know 
every phase of good and evil, every side of life, 
he moved ever "in white armor." His naturally 
sunny temper rose soaring above grief, laughed at 
obstacles that would have discouraged a weaker 
boy, and to himself he never admitted the possi- 
bility of defeat. 

Even to me he could scarcely speak of that 
mother, whose face, as he grew to manhood, was 
transformed into one like hers but younger, that he 
called his "Dream-Girl." Once he laid his head 
against my shoulder and said softly: "Beth, I 
loved my mother. ' ' And when I asked him a little 
about her, he could only say: "She was like you. 
She was beautiful, like you." 

Arthur's future relations with his father were 
very slight. Arthur sent him pecuniary aid from 
time to time, and felt an unhappy responsibility 
toward him, which was in no way reciprocated. 
The father practically deserted his children, and 
when at last some years ago he dropped completely 
out of sight, it was a relief to everyone concerned. 

After his mother's death Arthur at once left 
home, and a wealthy family invited him to visit 
them, and very soon made him an offer of adop- 
tion. Their son was Arthur's schoolmate, and 
these friends offered to send the motherless boy to 



Boyhood 7 

school with their own son, and later to Harvard, 
with equal rights of sonship. Arthur loved luxury 
always, and whenever he had the opportunity 
was exceedingly hard on towels, the weekly wash 
and the hot water supply. He was living at the 
A's in a suite of luxurious rooms. He did not 
hesitate an instant in his decision. 

''No," he said. "I must live my own life and 
win my own education — those are the only terms 
on which I can hold to my independence and self- 
respect." And so he left his greatly disappointed 
friends, and began his independent life as he 
ended it, in the uniform of a United States Infantry 
soldier. He was first mascot, then chief bugler 
with the Massachusetts National Guard, laying 
there the foundation of the military fitness which 
made him later one of the most fearless and 
brilliant officers in the American Expeditionary 
Force to France. The soldiers called him, "The 
Candy Kid," and they formed a special sort of 
protectorate over him that he never forgot. ' ' The 
kindness of those rough men," he said, "and their 
care of me was one of the most touching expe- 
riences I ever had. Drinking and swearing and 
worse stopped when I was present, yet I saw 
enough of it to give me a permanent distaste for 
that sort of thing. I believe I would have been 



8 In White Armor 

soundly thrashed if any of them had caught me 
saying 'damn,' and that was mildness itself to 
them." 

Arthur's shooting soon brought him prominence 
and popularity, and his championships no less 
than his grit made him a favorite with his regi- 
ment. The medals he won are many and impres- 
sive, and to the winning of one of them we owed 
our longest and happiest vacation from army life. 
Why? Because of a broken nose for the mending 
of which we were granted three weeks' leave of 
absence last winter. 

Arthur was never fat but once in his life, and 
that was when he gave an exhibition drill in the 
"everwarm safety suit" which I foisted upon him 
on the eve of his sailing, — an article thereafter 
known as "the damn bathing-suit," and which 
you will meet in several of his letters. I imagine 
that his shoulder bones might have been quite 
sharp when he was sixteen, at least they proved 
so on this occasion, for the back-kick of his rifle 
finally lacerated his flesh and began to pain him 
intolerably. He was shooting prone upon the 
ground, and finding his sleeve actually blood- 
soaked, he attempted to bank a mound of earth 
to take the force of the repeated blows. But his 
precaution was inadequate, and the butt of his 



Boyhood 9 

rifle crashed back upon his own poor little nose. 
He finished the match and won it too. 

Arthur's pluck was always of the most cheerful 
variety — he was not a Stoic, one felt no "grim 
determination " about him. He never indulged 
in heroics. In fact he had the dread of physical 
pain or disability natural to perfect bodily health. 
He was also "afraid of the dark, " or so he told me. 
No shrinking influenced his conduct, however, 
and if ever he was hurt he made a joke of it. It 
was difficult to induce him to rest, and to remain 
in bed he had to be literally unable to lift his 
head. Still with the National Guard, he got up 
from an attack of grip one day, contrary to the 
orders of an exasperated doctor, and hiked with 
his company forty miles, one of a bare dozen to 
stick to the finish. Of course he went back to 
bed again, but was perfectly happy and satisfied. 

Altogether Arthur remained three years a boy 
soldier, studying and reading in his leisure hours, 
for he had by no means given up the idea of school, 
and was gradually evolving a plan of his own 
which he called "practical education." 

A college education and professional life were 
his dominant ambition, but of the nature of the 
latter he was undecided. "How can I decide," 
he thought, "until I know the world better, 



io In White Armor 

and find out the thing I like best and am most 
fitted to do?" He felt that the average boy just 
out of college had the most important part of his 
education still before him, and that in acquiring 
it he lost the relation between life and the reading 
he had done in his University. "A boy who has 
been sent to school and college as a matter of 
routine, has not had time nor opportunity to get 
acquainted with realities, ' ' he argued. ' ' How can 
he relate his reading and study with experience, 
and know how to reject or affirm what he reads? 
Half the value of his college course is lost through 
immaturity and inexperience. He forms his judg- 
ments from books or from his professors, and often 
the wonderful opportunity is wasted because it 
has come to the boy too easily, has been accepted 
grudgingly, and at times is thrown utterly away 
in the sowing of futile 'wild oats'." 

This theory he held to with the tenacity of 
faith in his judgment that was always justified 
for his own case. "I would not recommend it to 
anyone else," he said once, "and as it worked 
out I got to college much later than I intended, 
and am making a late start in life. Discourage- 
ments began to come just as I wanted to enter. 
Everyone said, ' Oh you will never get to college ! 
Why don't you give it up and settle down?' But 



Boyhood n 

I did get there, and you can't possibly imagine 
what it means to me. It renewed my faith in 
myself, and makes me feel that the future holds no 
difficulty that I cannot conquer." 

However dangerous Arthur's theory of educa- 
tion might prove for the average boy, it had worked 
marvels in his instance. At twenty-four he had 
the bearing and poise of a much older man. His 
mind was well-informed and analytic, and his 
judgment was mature. He was thoughtful, witty, 
and of a most charming and natural manner. 
His chivalrous attention to women, especially if 
they were of my mother's age, never failed to win 
their hearts. It was native knightliness in him, 
for in his wandering and adventurous life he had 
not come very much in contact with women. 
He had never been attracted to any young woman 
in his life, for he believed passionately in ideal 
love, and waited for it to come to him with wistful 
longing. His own unhappy home-life had inspired 
Arthur with the great desire to make some woman 
supremely happy. This ambition he realized as 
completely as every other. 

Arthur spoke in one letter of having led a selfish 
life. It was only selfish in so far as anything we 
may do for the sake of our own growth is selfish. 
He had no responsibility toward any human 



12 In White Armor 

being but himself, and that one he fully met. He 
went from adventure to adventure, valuing the 
work at hand only as it led onward to his larger 
goal, but always doing it "in the best form possi- 
ble," — a happy pilgrim, his soul developing, 
accepting the good and rejecting the unclean 
and unworthy with unwavering certainty, and 
arriving at last at what he himself termed "the 
pinnacle of manhood." 

Following is an extract from the letter referring 
to that "selfish life," written in Jacksonville just 
before we announced our engagement. In it 
also he expresses some of the ideals which ran like 
interwoven golden threads, guiding him along 
his way. 

April, 19 1 7. 
Y. M. C A. f Jacksonville, Fla. 

Beth dear: 

I received your letter just as I was leaving for 
Jacksonville. I don't know how to answer it, — 
I only know that I am very happy. . . . 

When I look at my position in the world I 
shudder, and my heart shrinks. Do you realize 
what a selfish life I have lived, thinking only of 
what I hoped to be? Everything has been for self, 
for experience and education, first practical educa- 
tion, and last that coveted college training which 



Boyhood 13 

has been my goal. And why have I led this life, 
knowing the selfishness of it, you might ask? 
After years and years of meeting innumerable 
people, I have had in mind an ideal formed from 
the qualities I have liked in different persons, and 
sometime I knew that I should meet that ideal, 
and that recognition would be immediate. I 
knew that I would want to give the woman I loved 
a great deal, and for that I must be equipped. 
After all, there is one thing in life and only one that 
is worth while, and that is union with the person 
whom you love. Everything else leads toward 
that end, the ultimate happiness, and toward that 
happiness we all are or should be striving. My life 
has been clean and it is mine to offer. I shall be 
able to care for the girl I love, and although I want 
you to know the exact truth about my present 
situation, you must also believe that I have suffi- 
cient ability to take care of the future. 

My first year in college is nearly completed, and 
while I haven't accomplished all I desired to, I 
have a good insight into what it means, and it will 
avail me all I hoped for future years. There are 
many things I am equipped to do, but I have 
always wanted to be a professional man, a lawyer, 
and toward that end I have driven, and am 
driving. My practical knowledge of business 



H In White Armor 

and the world will, in that profession, when 
augmented by the necessary academic training, 
possess wonderful value. 

It worries me, Beth, to think of allowing so 
much valuable time to slip by now that I have 
found you, and I am lost as to what is the best 
course. I feel that it might be to go to New York, 
locate in a law office, and do my best to study and 
practice at one and the same time. Our lives 
should be lived together, and the space of time 
between now and when I shall be fully established 
is too great to lose. Beth, with you to work for, 
nothing can keep me back. 

The war situation is still vague. I was talking 
with General Foster, former Adjutant-General of 
Florida, and he advises me to wait until I am 
called for. Personally I dislike that attitude. 
I want to get into it, and want everyone else to 
feel the same way so that we can get it over and 
settle down to the normal again. If everybody 
waits, I see no chance of terminating the whole 
miserable affair for years to come. I should like 
to go to the college training camp, but that is 
out of the question I fear. 

I am trying to look at the practical side of life, 
and know beyond a shadow of a doubt that only 
happiness will be ours. If you were to ask how, 



Boyhood 15 

on so short acquaintance, we can be sure that this 
is real love, I can only answer that the slightest 
thought of going through life without you at my 
side, — well, I cannot describe it, it is so vague, 
impossible and wrong. My heart seems to take 
much for granted, but in so doing it is full of con- 
tent. The voice of the heart is right and should 
be heeded, Dear. It is simply the recognition of 
pure truth 



CHAPTER II 

YOUTH 

"And none in so young youth was ever made a knight 
Till Galahad." 

On the Florida University recommendation slip 
for the Officers' Training School I find the following 
items. 

Educational Qualifications: One year special 
student, law and academic, University of Florida. 
His professors state that he is an earnest student 
far in advance of his class in academic work. 

Military Experience: Three years, 6th Mas- 
sachusetts. Has experience as rifle instructor, 
target range, etc. 

Business Experience: Manager of Seminole 
Club, Jacksonville, Fla., Chief steward and purser, 
Clyde Steamship Co., Sales-manager, Automobile 
Co., Jacksonville. 

I wonder how Arthur managed to bring down 
his "business experience" to three items! He 
went back and forth many times from Florida to 
New York between his eighteenth and twenty- 

16 



Youth 17 

fifth year. He called the Jacksonville Y. M. C. A. 
"home" during those long years of brave and 
happy adventuring. Once in order to get back 
south, and "for the fun of the thing" he ran a 
dining-car on the Southern Railroad for a few- 
days. It was one of the times of his life for young 
Arthur, and I can well imagine him, handsome, 
debonair, and aristocratic, in this curious position. 
He refused to wear a uniform, and smilingly 
refused tips. The passengers engaged him in 
conversation, and he received many offers of 
business advancement. One day he took the 
order of a man who looked him over and then 
said gruffly: "Young man, what are you doing 
here?" — "Running this dining-car," said Arthur 
meekly. "Well don't do it any more! Are you 
interested in the Railroad?" — "Why no, not 
particularly," said Arthur, "except to give tip- 
top service on this car." — "Well if you ever should 
become interested," was the curt reply, "call at 
the address on this card, and I will make your 
advancement my personal concern." The gentle- 
man leaving then abruptly, Arthur remained 
staring at the card of the President of the Southern 
Railroad. 

Curiously enough, when Arthur saw me off at 
Jacksonville for New York, in the spring of 191 7, 



) 

18 In White Armor 

he caught sight in the diner of one of the negroes 
who had been a waiter under his orders. Without 
my knowledge, and after he had left the slowly 
moving train, he jumped on again and said: 
"Reed, look after those ladies in drawing-room A. 
One of them is the future Mrs. Hamm." (An 
assertion to which I had not yet fully subscribed!) 
We surely were looked after, and Reed said to me 
confidentially: "Mistah Hamm am one ob de 
mos' well considahed young gemmen ob de souf. 
He got mo' friends dan ah kin tell you 'bout, an* 
he ain' got an enemy, — no ma'm, not one." 

Florida put its mark upon Arthur's speech and 
manner. One was a curious mingling of soft 
southern drawl and the Boston A, and the other 
was typical of "old southern chivalry." Up and 
down the Florida coast he went in a little Ford 
"skeeter, " all too often held up for speeding, and 
on one occasion landing its driver in the home of 
Florida Crackers. "Stuck for fair she war," he 
told me, referring to his car, "in one of those 
palmetto swamps. It was too late to get help 
to drag her out until morning, so I footed it to the 
nearest shanty, afraid every minute that I might 
step on a snake or a 'gator. The hut was certainly 
terribly dirty, and all the family were eating out 
of one common bowl, — a nauseous mixture of some 



Youth 19 

sort. But they were very kind and let me sleep 
on the floor and asked me to share their supper." — 
"But you couldn't, could you?" I asked, knowing 
Arthur to be hyper-fastidious. "Why yes, I did. 
Naturally I didn't like it, but they were so nice 
to me that I could not possibly hurt their feelings." 
I am confused as to the chronology of the events 
of these crowded years, and Arthur was to have 
written it all out for me sometime. But "some- 
time" never came, and so I feel this must needs 
be a disconnected chapter. Time enough he 
had, poor boy, to indulge in typhoid or malarial 
fever once a year. Never sparing himself physical 
strain, he laid himself open to the dangers of the 
climate, and he was too high-strung and nervous 
to submit gracefully to these illnesses. The most 
serious attack that he had was while he was acting 
as private secretary to the President of the Clyde 
Steamship Line. He practically ran away from 
the hospital at Jacksonville, and went to Palatka, 
sending to Massachusetts for his brother to join 
him. The two boys shared the expenses of a little 
farm, and for a month or so thoroughly enjoyed 
bathing, fishing, and shooting. Arthur was then 
about twenty-one years old, and he had his eyes 
turned longingly and definitely toward that 
"coveted college training." He had read widely, 



20 In White Armor 

his mind was clear and brilliant, he was ready 
and eager, but financial troubles held him back. 
Money saved was called upon for various uses. 
With their consent the father had used up the 
boys' inheritance from their mother. Not only 
that but he had made further demands upon 
Arthur's resources, and the boy at this time was 
carrying a heavy load of responsibility, and a 
heavy heart. In short all of his savings melted 
away, and there is a characteristic entry in his 
hand in a little book kept by the brothers to- 
gether. It reads as follows : 

"Arthur and Loring on the corner of Jack and 
Franklin Streets; Total assets, Loring, $1.95. 
Arthur, $1 .65. But we are out for a killing ! " 

Arthur was slow in recovering from this illness 
and while still in delicate health, and at a low ebb 
financially the management of the Clyde Line 
offered him a berth on one of their steamships, 
hoping that the open air and light duties might 
speedily restore him. 

It must have been soon after this that he came 
north again, and was induced to work for an 
important detective agency whose Chief was his 
personal friend. By this time he had decided 
upon the law as a career, but his conception of 
legal practice was original, and idealistic. Crimi- 



Youth 21 

nal law was to have been his specialty. He 
arrived at that decision after constant observation 
of injustice in the machinery of the law, and he 
wanted to make it somehow humane. He thought 
it possible to meet the plea in Galsworthy's 
Justice. He desired to reclaim for social useful- 
ness the outcast, to defend the innocent and poor 
and needy. He also had the knowledge of his 
own special aptitudes, and they led him to the 
same goal. He had a wonderful gift of oratory, 
acute psychological perceptions, every qualifica- 
tion for court -room speaking, and for dealing with 
the human nature and personal problems with 
which the profession teems. As a detective he 
had studied criminology, and he furthermore 
had plenty of the spice of adventure that he so 
loved. 

When I think of the hair-raising escapes from 
death that Arthur had while engaged in this 
work, how for instance, when investigating a 
smuggling case and working as a hand on the 
Brooklyn docks, there were three attempts made 
upon his life, it is not surprising that I thought he 
would be almost as safe in France as at home. 
He seemed to bear a charmed life. As chauffeur, 
if ever a man took chances with his car, it was he. 
He was a most skillful driver but was continually 



22 In White Armor 

fined for speeding, and once on that bad curve 
on 1 1 6th Street, from Broadway to Riverside, he 
skidded, smashed into a brewery wagon, upset 
the whole apple cart, and created a tremendous 
excitement altogether. 

Arthur must often have been tempted to remain 
on the detective force, for he received high pay 
and was wonderfully successful. His quickness 
of mind, resourcefulness, personal courage, and 
instant reading of character miraculously endowed 
him for the purpose. I have never known him 
obliged to alter a first judgment of character, and 
he had what appeared to be psychic powers. 
Thought or mind-reading being out of the ques- 
tion, it was by intuitive flashes of reasoning that 
he was often able to follow the mental processes of 
others. He possessed such personal magnetism, 
whatever we quite mean by that, that he could 
control men instantly to his will. The atmos- 
phere of a room changed when he entered it ; a 
fresh sweet wholesomeness entered with him, and 
wherever he was he was the center of attraction. 
Yet he lived and acted with the naturalness of a 
child, was very little introspective, and only when 
he had some definite purpose in mind was he at 
all conscious of his effect. However I have heard 
him say quietly: "I have power. I have the 



Youth 23 

power to lead men." He knew neither false pride 
nor false humility. 

The adventures of Arthur Sherlock Holmes 
would make a book all by itself, and we were 
going to write it together. 

In the fall of 191 6 Arthur Hamm went to 
President Murphree of Florida State University 
and stated his case, his ambition, and his qualifica- 
tions for entering the college as a special student. 
President Murphree, impressed by his personality, 
offered to help him through in every way possible, 
gave him the direction of the University Commons, 
and by October first an elated and triumphant 
student was established in his dormitory room of 
"Spartan simplicity," a delighted member of the 
Pi Kappa Alpha fraternity, fairly started at last 
on the road to love, happiness, and public service. 

Here is one of the letters written in the last 
days before Arthur entered the service, and left 
the college life he loved so well and had won so 
hardly. 

Gainesville, Florida, 
May 

My dearest Beth : 

I received your letter Saturday afternoon, and 
it surely made me very happy. It doesn't seem 
fair that over a thousand miles should separate 



24 In White Armor 

us, and with you, I wish we were where we could 
talk, for letters are unsatisfactory. However, 
June is coming closer, and only the proverbial 
" irresistible force'' can keep me from New York. 

New York has always seemed such a lonesome 
place, but already I feel the warmth of the com- 
panionship, the friendship, and the love that I 
am to know there, and my future, which is to be 
made there seems unbelievably happy. I have 
often thought as I crossed the ferries at night and 
saw those vast beehives of activity and business 
lighted up for the last hour of rush and work that 
a higher ideal than that of greed and money- 
getting lay behind it all. Every lighted window 
meant that there were men working for the one 
beloved woman, — some perhaps just for her 
luxury and adornment, but many for a great 
conception of Home. Love is the motive power 
of the whole world, or should be, — the great 
creative and constructive impulse. We will make 
it so together, won't we? 

Your picture, Beth, is my most honored treasure. 
My room looks homelike now, and I like to sit 
at my desk. Our rooms in the dormitory are of 
Spartan simplicity, but are comfortable enough. 
My desk, though not cluttered, is well covered 
with books and papers, and your picture occupies 



Youth 25 

the left-hand corner. It may surprise you, but 
the whole appearance of the room has changed. 
My lamp is shaded and casts a soft light over 
everything. The cold hard lines and barren 
atmosphere have vanished, and melted into — a 
Home ! Ah Beth, when you trust your life to me, 
I will be the happiest man in the world, and the 
proudest. I justify our quick decision by the 
knowledge that pure truth is immediately deter- 
mined, and that what the heart accepts and 
believes admits of no question. 

Please don't overtax your strength. There is 
so much ahead of us all that it is necessary to 
guard our health and usefulness. It is a great 
consolation to know that your heart contains 
anxiety concerning the part I shall play in the war, 
but somehow I am not worried. I have implicit 
faith in the unknown, and feel that my life would 
not have been so ordered and lived had it not 
been intended that I share it with the woman I 
love. If it is decreed that I go to France, or else- 
where, it matters little. By that time our future 
will have been decided, and when the war is 
over I shall live and work only to make you happy. 

You speak of me as ''endearing." What a 
wonderful privilege for me, Beth! I want to be 
so, — to give myself unconditionally over to that 



26 In White Armor 

side of life for which I have longed, and which 
has guided my course. Meeting you was not a 
mere meeting. It was a recognition of the dream- 
girl who has been the inspiration of my life. Ah 
what a shame that war keeps us apart at just this 
time! Can you not come to Atlanta when I am 
started at Fort McPherson ? It will help me so to 
talk with you, — to be near you, if only for a day. 
If I had one last wish in the world and only one, it 
would be to see you. 

The following extracts from letters written by 
President Murphree and by Dr. Trusler, Dean of 
the College of Law at Gainesville, are proof that 
Arthur's many years out of school had not un- 
fitted him for University life. 

"We are proud to know that one of our former 
students is displaying such bravery at the Front. 
Arthur Ellis Hamm was far in advance of the 
average academic student. He made many 
friends in the short time that he attended the 
University of Florida, and proved to be an untiring 
worker, ambitious of attaining the best that there 
is in the educational world. When he left this 
institution to attend the Officers' Training School, 
we knew that he would make good, and were not 



Youth 27 

surprised at his rapid advancement nor at the news 
of his bravery in action." (Dr. Murphree). 

"He was closely associated with the students of 
the College of Law, having a desire to perfect him- 
self in legal studies and he was a member of my 
class in legal ethics, receiving credit therein when 
he entered military service. Many of my former 
students have won commissions, but the rise of 
Captain Hamm was the most brilliant of any 
connected with the University, and was the subject 
of general commendation here. 

"You may care to know that Captain Hamm was 
an eager student, full of interest in the subjects 
discussed, and mixing what was new to him with 
the extensive experience he seemed to possess. 
He had a vital personality, taking color with 
unusual readiness from the studies he pursued, 
and from the environment of the University. As 
on the Field of Honor, so here he seemed a 'rap- 
turously happy gentleman, ' who gained in a short 
time a remarkable popularity with both the 
students and the Faculty body." (Dr. Trusler.) 



CHAPTER III 

ROMANCE 

"Oh just and faithful knight of God 
Ride on! The prize is near! " 

In February Arthur was pretty well tired out 
with the strenuous program of his college life. He 
was carrying twenty-two hours of law and aca- 
demic a week, was active in Y. M. C. A. work, and 
in his fraternity, and had the entire charge of the 
university commons. For a boy who had not 
studied regularly for ten years it was a wonderful 
achievement. All honor to the southern college 
that gave an ambitious student such an opportu- 
nity. If Arthur had made his appeal to one of 
the great northern universities like Harvard, he 
would have met with a much less pliable sys- 
tem. The influence of Florida upon this Yankee- 
born boy was all to his advantage. He was 
able to realize there a certain flowering of soul 
that his native State alone could not have given 
him. 

Simultaneously with a succession of nervous 
28 



Romance 29 

headaches, Arthur received a letter from the 
detective agency in New York, begging him to 
obtain leave of absence from college, in order to 
investigate a series of robberies that had taken 
place on the Indian River. He was offered ten 
dollars a day, and carte blanche for expenses, 
and both the money and the vacation looked at- 
tractive to Arthur. At Yale or Harvard imagine 
the horror of the Dean and faculty body if such a 
request should be made, by no matter how earnest 
and devoted a student. There would be no rule 
to cover such a case I am sure, and unless the 
trustees sat in heavy conclave and the constitu- 
tion and by-laws of the University should be 
amended, no boy could be allowed to desert the 
academic halls for the purpose of acting Sherlock 
Holmes pro tern. Arthur did not see, to tell the 
truth, how he could leave Gainesville for so long, 
but he was actually encouraged to go by his 
sympathetic and human professors, who thought 
he needed rest, and promised help in the making 
up of lost lectures. 

Arthur therefore alighted from the train at 
Rockledge one night at two o'clock, and that is a 
fair sample of the vagaries of Florida travel. The 
hotel conveyance had left the station after a long 
wait for the overdue train, and there was nothing 



3<> In White Armor 

for Arthur to do but to walk a mile and a half 
with his bags along a dark road. 

"I was terribly afraid of snakes," he confessed 
to me, "and when I got here the sleepy night clerk 
had the audacity to tell me that he had no vacant 
room. As I never knew a hotel actually full to 
capacity, I threatened death instant and condign, 
and was shown to quite a good room after all. 
I haven't a single 'gator bite to show for that 
walk either, but I wouldn't take it again for one 
hundred dollars down." 

I had arrived at Rockledge two days previously, 
and had found my only consolation for a wasted 
stage set in Peter, — Peter, gold and resplendent of 
tooth, exceeding black and wrinkled, who drove 
a bony nag that had struggled patiently through 
life under the name of Josephus Orange-Blossom. 

"Yas'm, — but mosly ah calls him 'Sephus. Git 
along dar, you 'Sephus, an' show de ladies youse 
got spunk in you yit." 

Peter was distinctly not a Foot-Washing Baptist, 
— I should say not. 

"Dey's mo' colo'd chu'ches dan white chu'ches 
ovah to Cocoa wha' Ah libs," he announced. 
"Not 'case dey's mo' colo'd folks dan white in 
Cocoa, but de colo'd folks is mo' 'ligious. Dey's 
Methody Baptists, Shoutin' Baptists, an' Foot- 



Romance 3 1 

Washin' Baptists, but de Foot-Washers des an 
ornery low-down lot. Dat guide Ah done tole 
you 'bout on de St. Johns Ribber am a Foot- 
Washin' Baptist preachah." 

"But Peter, how can he be that and a guide as 
well?" 

"Well he jes natchelly am' got but fo' membahs 
to his congegation, an' he got to fin' wo'k somehow 
'ner. Don' you-all tell him Ah tole you 'bout dat, 
case he ain' gwine lak' it. He kinder 'shamed, po' 
man." 

On the downslope towards home, where 'Sephus 
struck the astonishing pace of two miles an hour, 
and with a flourish no less of politeness than of his 
whip Peter asked: "Well Miss, is dezyer Ger- 
mans Ah done heah tell 'bout still amakin' a wah?" 

The next day I had breakfast in bed (never 
again in Rockledge), but at noon I came in hungry 
from a tramp, and went to the dining table which 
had accommodations for eight, but had had one 
vacant place hitherto. A young man slid quietly 
into that seat, and looked across at me. Our 
eyes held for an instant in which my heart gave a 
great bound, — and all the world was changed for 
us two. At that instant we began to live, and 
never knew again "which was Beth and which was 
Arthur." He has teased me by claiming to have 



32 In White Armor 

been the first to reach entire faith in our joint 
destiny, but if I hesitated a week or two it was 
because of a difference in our age which I thought 
might be to his disadvantage. Who can explain 
love at first sight, and its unerring recognition — 
what Arthur called "the recognition of pure 
truth?" It is a miracle of rebirth as wonderful 
as the first dawn of consciousness, a mystery of 
the spirit as profound as death, and a happiness 
as exalted as any we hope to find in Heaven. 
Arthur Hamm had recognized his "dream-girl," 
"even to the kind of clothes she wore — that big 
white soft cloak — everything simple and white 
and soft." And I, fortunate and happy, was that 
girl. 

All through the luncheon hour Arthur held a 
newspaper bottom side up, and got very little out 
of President Wilson's speech — the one that led to 
war. "There is a way of holding a newspaper," 
he told me, "by which you can look over the 
top of it, and look and look and never be seen or 
noticed." I only stole an occasional glance along 
the level of the table to his plate, which remained 
empty, and he never has been able to recall whether 
eventually he had any luncheon or not. He was 
going over and over in his mind his life and rec- 
ord, his present rather discouraging position, and 



Romance 33 

planning rapidly how he could make good and 
take care of his wife. He had not counted upon 
meeting her until he was fully established in the 
world, but he found no obstacle that could not 
be overcome. 

A night or so later, more courageous, and re- 
quiring no longer the protection of a newspaper, I 
brought down a laugh upon myself. I had felt 
Arthur's eyes on me to such a degree that I was 
unable to converse intelligently with the gentle- 
man on my left. I finally looked over at Arthur 
and asked stupidly: "Are you trying to hypno- 
tize me?" — "No," he said, "but I am being 
hypnotized." 

Before I met my husband, he introduced him- 
self to mother and told her his name (he had 
registered as Arthur Ellis), his business at the 
hotel, his status, and everything else he could 
think of that might prejudice her against him, then 
asked if he might meet and know me. My 
mother, captivated by his honesty and charm, 
falling in love with him on the spot, gave her con- 
sent to our acquaintance. 

"Will your daughter think the less of me be- 
cause I am here in the capacity of a detective, 
registered under my middle name?" 

"No, — as to that she will think you, as I do, 

3 



34 In White Armor 

very clever, and like you all the better for the 
way you have won your way in the world." 

" Don't you think it would be best for her not 
to know for a time, so that she can meet and 
talk to me without prejudice or self -conscious- 
ness? I will do just as you say, — tell her now, if 
you prefer." 

"Suppose we keep it our secret for awhile as we 
are to be here one week only, and I will call her 
over and introduce you to her now." 

And so I was presented to "Mr. Ellis," and I 
went away trying my new name over with some 
complacency. It was the only real surprise that 
I received when he made his full confession to me 
a few days later, in an earnest pleading way that 
was irresistible. I but loved him the more for 
his story and my heart warmed to the romance 
and idealism of his life. I was also proud of the 
manner in which he had solved the tangled threads 
of the case in the hotel, and I looked at his detec- 
tive's card with a school-girl's thrill. 

"This is my last case, Beth," he said smiling, 
"I have started on a broad highway, and left the 
byways and the paths of exploration far behind." 

It was a week of whirlwind courtship, of talk 
and talk around it and about, never of love, but 
of ourselves and our puny philosophies, our dis- 



Romance 35 

appointments, and, shyly, of our ideals. It was a 
week of glorious drives under the swaying moss of 
the road beside the river which glanced blue and 
sparkling beyond the tall palmettoes; of trips in 
the launch that plied up and down, when solemn 
pelicans aroused our laughter, and Arthur loung- 
ing at his ease in the deck chair beside me, all in 
white and superbly handsome, outshone the south- 
ern sun for me. 

In my room at night I would find little gifts, 
just oranges or a spray of the sweet blossom, which 
I knew for a sign ! And once when late for break- 
fast Arthur wrote a card for me, and on handing 
it to the bell-boy that small functionary started 
with it on the run. "Here you chap," called 
Arthur cheerfully, "how do you know where 
you are going with that message?" — "Isn't it 
for Room 116, Sir?" and it surely was. On it 
was scribbled the then famous legend "Watch- 
ful Waiting." I received it with a laugh, and 
said "no answer," but I finished dressing in a 
hurry ! 

That nothing should be lacking a moon blessed 
the progress of our love, — that love so well under- 
stood, and for which we felt no need of words, 
nor even of the touch of hand upon hand. I can 
remember sitting with him in silence on the moonlit 



36 In White Armor 

pier, and turning to speak to him, I saw that his 
eyes were closed. While I still looked at him, 
they opened, and he sent me a most wonderful 
smile. 

The day that I left Rockledge was just one 
week since we had met. Arthur was obliged to 
remain to finish his case, but he rode on the train 
as far as that "ligious town ob Cocoa," and we 
were quite miserable and entirely happy. Boy- 
ishly when we left the train he gave me his frater- 
nity grip, and on the platform outside while I 
watched him through the closed window, his face 
became suddenly transfigured, and his lips formed 
the three oldest words of human speech, words 
that require no expert lip-reader to interpret, — 
"Hove you." 

I saw my husband only three times again before 
we were married. He followed me soon to Winter 
Park, taking a twelve -hour drive from Gainesville 
in order to have an hour's talk with me, and I saw 
him again at Jacksonville, where he put me on 
the train for New York. After I announced our 
engagement to the world, on the first day of May, 
I went to Atlanta while Arthur was a student 
officer at Fort McPherson, and our week-end 
there was all the time we had together until our 
wedding day. 



Romance 37 

The letters that follow cover the period of 
Arthur's training, and the winning of his com- 
mission as Captain in the United States army. 

May 3d. 

Beth dear, I have signed up for the Reserve 
Officers' Training Camp, to be held in Georgia, near 
Atlanta. The camps are almost exclusively for 
college men — they are places where men are given 
three months' training, at the end of which time 
those who survive will be given a commission in 
the army. I passed the physical examination, 
and while light for my height, I got safely by. 
I finished signing my papers this morning and 
had them executed. They were forwarded to 
Governor's Island this afternoon, together with 
about thirty-five other applications from here. 
We hope to hear whether we were accepted some 
time next week. The camp starts May 15th, and 
we are signed up for the three months' training, 
also agreeing to accept whatever commission the 
Secretary of War sees fit to give us after this 
camp. If only this terrible war had never come, 
my plans would be quite different, but now that 
we must face the issue I feel that we should all do 
our bit, and willingly too. 

I feel sad, Beth, when I think of the long separa- 



38 In White Armor 

tion this will mean for us. It should not be — it 
ought not to be asked, and yet, I know that you 
want me to do my share — you are a true woman. 
I am sad too when I think about what the war 
may bring forth — sad because we shall be separated 
for a time. But time and space, Dear, shall never 
part us, and sooner or later we shall be joined 
never to know sorrow nor separation. 

It is impossible to imagine that I am about to 
enter upon three months of intensified military 
training. I feel this is the wisest course to pursue 
as it is almost certain that August will see the 
United States conscripting men, and I can lead 
men, Beth, better than I can follow. With only 
love in my heart and a desire to be near you, war 
seems more terrible than I ever before imagined, 
but everything will turn out all right, Beth dear, 
and soon I hope to be near you forever and ever. 

Fort McPherson, 

June, 1917. 

Beth darling, when I read the letters from your 
many friends, the grateful tears would come. 
I feel, oh so safe and secure in every way. I am 
so glad you can come to Atlanta, and the date you 
choose is just right, for I shall be past the inocula- 
tions that are at present bowling me over at 



Romance 39 

intervals. I am ashamed to admit that the first 
one made me faint and that I was quite ill after 
it but that is, in part, due to the brutal way in 
which they are administered. Twenty needles 
have been broken off in the boys' arms and one 
poor chap has lost his arm from blood poisoning. 
To-day we were examined physically again, and 
I got by, but I had to kid the doctors a little for 
they pretended to find a leak around my heart. 
Now how can that be with that organ safe in your 
keeping? I am feeling fine and like the hard 
work, — it's good for us to hike twelve miles in 
nice hot, Georgia sun, — but there is just one thing 
that troubles me. I seem to need about eight 
hours sleep at night to be at my best, and this 
army doesn't believe in pampering us to that 
extent. 

Our schedule is fairly stiff, and every minute 
of the day is filled without any provision for our 
personal affairs. We drill, hike, have conferences, 
study from half-past five in the morning until 
nine-thirty at night, and we are obliged to be in 
bed at ten. The first call for reveille is at five- 
thirty; we fall in for roll-call at five-forty-five, and 
must be washed and cleaned up for breakfast 
five minutes later. I have attended every forma- 
tion so far, even hiking to Atlanta after an inocula- 



40 In White Armor 

tion when I could hardly walk. But all that is 
now past, and I am well and happy. 

When you come we can discuss the glorious 
plans for our wedding, — wonderful word! — And, 
Dear, I feel sure that I shall win a good commis- 
sion. I was made an N. C. O. on my first day 
here, and am now a corporal. We are detailed 
non-commissioned cadet officer for three days 
at a time. The work is really tremendously in- 
teresting, and then it is going to fit us to train 
and equip an army to take to Europe. Do you 
think me over self-confident? I have Beth to 
work for and nothing could be too hard. I could 
never disappoint her faith in me. Your belief 
in me is perfectly wonderful. You have accepted 
me for what I seemed to be, and, thank God, you 
have not made a mistake. How happy I am, 
that, knowing I would some day surely meet 
you, I have lived a clean and self-respecting life! 
I hope our work is going to make it possible to 
bring about a speedy peace, so that we can settle 
down to the normal, — a home, a fireside for us 
two children, my profession, — and, Beth, listen to 
this now — I am going to make a great lawyer! 
With Beth as my wife, is anything difficult? 

This is a little of my idea, Dear, you may 
think it odd, but I want to specialize in criminal 



Romance 41 

law. I can speak easily, and more than that, 
I have a sort of natural impulse to go out and 
defend the under dog. So few of the chaps that 
haven't money to get them off have a really fair 
deal. Not that I would take a case I did not 
believe in, but it would be great to pull out of a 
tight place somebody who could be reclaimed for 
social usefulness. I want to make of myself and 
my legal practice a sort of servant of humanity. 
Does that sound sententious and unpractical? 
I know you will understand and that we can make 
a lot of my idea together. 

The wonderful times ahead of us make my 
heart jump with gladness. The reading, the 
study, the music! I love music, Beth, and to 
hear you sing will be Heaven. Ah ! Dear, some- 
times a tiny, cold dread comes over me. If only 
we were sure of the future! I can't bear to think 
of you as hurt and worried, and yet I feel that you 
may have no small amount of both. Is it too hard 
a life that I have asked you to share with me ? I will 
do all in my power to make it as happy as I can, 
and I believe that it will come out right in the end, 
and that we shall have that happy little home. 

You can tell from my writing that I am under 
a strain. I am attending a conference, and try- 
ing to follow it at the same time that I write. 



42 In White Armor 

I am liable to be called on at any moment, and 
I like, at least, to give the impression of not having 
been waked out of deep slumber. In fact, I have 
a distinct premonition that I am about to explain 
a field problem that has been under discussion 
so I must leave you for a little while. 

Fort McPherson, Ga. 

July, 1917. 

My darling Girl: 

. . . These are days of great strain and hard 
work, and considerable suspense. I just came in 
from a long hike in the hottest sun you ever felt, 
and we had to do a lot of double time which gets my 
heart a bit, but I managed to stay with the other 
men. The only result is a slight head-ache which 
one touch of your hand could smooth away. 
To-day the examining board looked over us, and 
I have been recommended as one of the Captains. 
My one fear has been discharge for physical 
reasons, especially my heart, but I have made a 
strenuous fight for it and it seems that I have won. 
Had I been thrown out, I should have gone to 
Washington and been reinstated in some way, 
for I had to have that commission, Dear. My 
captaincy is my only wedding gift to you, my 
Beth. You have been my inspiration and I had 



Romance 43 

to win not only the income, but to make you 
proud of me and to justify your faith. 

How deeply I shall feel the responsibility, if 
it comes to me, only you know. Poor chaps! 
Every mother's son of them is entitled to the best 
chance of life that I can give him, not only for 
himself, but because his mother or his sweetheart 
loves him. First through strict discipline and 
training, and then through good leadership they 
shall have that chance. I feel awed by the task, 
but am proud and glad to have it to do. I feel 
quite proud of my recommendation, Dear, and 
shall be even more so of my commission, but most 
of all when my Beth places her hand in mine, and 
we repeat the words which make us man and wife 
before the whole world, as we are now at heart. 

We have picked a rifle team, and I am one of 
the members. So far I have had very good luck 
in scores, and lead the company, and, they tell 
me, the entire camp. I used, you know, to do a 
great deal of military rifle shooting, when a 
youngster, and it comes easy to me. It has helped 
me to my captaincy, and that makes me think, I 
have volunteered to take a company of colored 
troops if it is necessary. Do you mind ? I should 
prefer white men of course, but these pure-blooded 
Southern officers have such a feeling against it 



44 In White Armor 

that some of us may have to help out, and they 
make fine soldiers. Anyhow, Uncle Sam is my 
guide in all such matters. 

To tell you the truth, army life is distasteful to 
me, and I shall be glad on many scores when we 
get this business over. It is narrow, bound with 
red tape, and the insincerity, assumed courtesy, 
and sham of the whole thing make me sick. Yet 
I realize the need of it in the present crisis, and 
willingly, yes gladly, I give myself to do my part, 
and to do it in the best form possible. If only that 
race we fight had not been so greedy — if natural 
ambition for expansion could only have been 
directed into sane channels, what a wonderful 
world we should have ! 

Oh how I wish the war was at an end, and all 
uncertainty over ! I feel the suspense and anxiety 
more and more, Dear, even though I do know it 
will come right for us. I want to start those 
French lessons at once, for such knowledge in 
France will eventually lead to a staff appointment. 
It may be that the war will close before it comes 
time for American soldiers to go, but be that as it 
may, I shall only leave you for a time, and then 
rejoin my own dear loving wife, never to be sepa- 
rated again. Dear sweetheart, don't worry about 
the war. The future of the United States in this 



Romance 45 

struggle is still problematical, and it hurts and 
grieves me greatly to know you are anxious. God's 
will must be done, and His work in the world 
attended to, but His will, Dear, shall never cause 
our separation. Of this I feel sure, and in it I 
find power to face whatever is coming. I shall be 
spared for my Beth ! 

Your wonderfully clever box was a regular 
surprise party, and I, or rather we, enjoyed it very 
much. The chocolate cake was bully, and in 
perfect condition. Golly! it sure was good, and 
so were the nuts and the cookies, which made me 
think of the times my mother used to make cookies 
for me when I was a tiny kid, and I would eat 
them to the last crumb. So long it is since anyone 
let me be a little boy the way you do ! The hearts 
were somewhat crumbled, but still recognizable. 
Such a dear to send Boy a birthday party, and 
everyone voted it a tremendous success, and the 
way they hoed into that cake with their bayonets 
proved it beyond the shadow of a doubt. You 
would be surprised to see how much big men 
enjoy such things. 

I feel sleepy like a little child to-night, and not a 
bit like a man who is soon to command 250 other 
men! Some day we can, I hope, look back on 
these days, and make a joke of the worry we feel 



4 6 In White Armor 

about the future. But we must have confidence, 
and now over and over in my heart is one cry 
and one prayer, you — only you 

Fort McPherson, 

August, 1917. 

My dear Wife-to-be: 

I learned to-day positively that I had been 
recommended for a Captain's commission, and 
that there is every good prospect of my getting it. 
Somehow I feared I might not draw anything 
better than a first-lieutenancy on account of 
my age, and because my physique is not up to 
what it should be for twenty-five. I hope for 
no disappointment now. A captaincy will mean 
much more, and involve more creative work and 
responsibility. To handle the training for war 
of two hundred and fifty men puts me on my 
mettle, and the salary of a Captain will be accept- 
able also. We shall be able to live on it, and that 
will make me glad and proud. We are going to 
make a success of this greatest step of our lives, 
for we view marriage in the same serious light 
and are entering upon it with mingled awe and 
gladness. 

It has rained like time to-day, and I was out 
in it all day. Ugh! I hate to get wet, especially 



Romance 47 

as I possess only two uniforms. This has been a 
great old day altogether. We have had range 
practice, bayonet exercise, and last of all trench 
digging, and at that we actually worked with 
picks and shovels. I am some lame and blistered, 
for it is the first time I ever used such implements. 

To-morrow we go on guard, and I am to be 
sergeant-major of the guard, and also first duty 
sergeant of the company. It means work from 
early morn till late at night, — many a night at 
two a.m. sees me at the office — but I like it, and 
the commission I am winning will help me to do 
my man's part for you and for my country. I 
want to feel myself a full-sized man, because then 
I can take care of my wife — I love to say it, my 
wife! — and I want so much to measure up to my 
own ideal of manhood. Only so would I dare to 
become Beth's husband. I am impatient to be 
sure of my commission, so that I can lay it at the 
feet of my wife. It would mean absolutely nothing 
if it were not for you. 

Soon we are to take a ten days' hike, and I shall 
sleep out under the sky and stars which will bring 
you near my heart. I do not know just where we 
are going, and I may not have time to write much, 
but I will telegraph every day. Many of the men, 
among whom I have made good friends, are to be 



48 In White Armor 

married about the same time as we, but I am so 
much the most fortunate of them all! The most 
beautiful and wonderful girl in the world is to be 
my bride. You ought to hear how they rag me, 
and say: "Oh Hamm is joking us. He couldn't 
persuade any girl to marry him!" Just wait till 
they see you! Soon I shall register in a hotel, 
"Captain and Mrs. Arthur E. Hamm," and I'll 
be the happiest and dizziest man on earth at that 
moment. 

Oh, Beth, soon peace will come, and our Home 
— what a perfect picture that paints to me! — 
shall be a Paradise. I want so much to make you 
a happy woman. I shall make good, and when the 
war is over my really big effort will begin. Some- 
times I have a slight fear in my heart about my 
success. It seems as if I were starting late in 
life, but then I receive a letter from you, and 
self -distrust flies out of the window. Life without 
you wouldn't be worth a cent, but with you it is a 
treasure to be cherished. 

I must leave you now Dear, — small boy's eyes 
are full of sleep, and his head is droopy, but I will 
get up before reveille to spend a few moments 
with you in the morning. 



CHAPTER IV 

MARRIAGE 

"Oh happy world! All, meseems are happy, — I the happiest 
of them all." 

The ten days' hike just referred to has passed 
into history for the officers of the 326th Infantry. 
Last winter they used to say: " We'll get noth- 
ing worse in France. It isn't possible." It was 
always spoken of as "The Hike." It rained every 
day and Georgia clay covered their wet uniforms 
from head to foot. To bathe was simple, — a mere 
matter of disrobing. Tents were pitched in the 
deep mud, and not infrequently were blown over. 
To write one's dream-girl was beyond the power 
of man under such conditions, but the telegraph 
wires were kept at white heat, and the operator 
at my end thoroughly enjoyed herself. 

Last spring in the course of a long ride in Gladys 
(you haven't been properly introduced to her yet, 
but you will be), Arthur suddenly put on the 
breaks and said: "By George, if there isn't the 

little office where I mailed you the post-card on 
4 49 



50 In White Armor 

The Hike!" That post-card was a tremendous 
concession, since Arthur hated them worse than a 
German. 

Just four days before we were married Arthur 
was able to telegraph me: "Was commissioned 
as Captain to-day. Will start north to-morrow." 

Meanwhile in all the confusion of those last 
days at Fort McPherson the poor boy had to rush 
around to a tailor for new uniforms, to a jeweler 
for wedding ring and captain's bars, and he took 
a kindly little seamstress into his confidence as to 
the fashioning of nice soft silk bath-robes and 
things. I had set our marriage day tentatively 
for Saturday, August 18th, and was relieved when 
finally assured of Arthur's arrival by Friday at 
Westhampton, L. I. The happiness of that meeting 
after nearly three months of separation could only 
have been surpassed by the one we hoped to have 
after the war. It seemed when he jumped from 
the train that I had forgotten how superbly hand- 
some was my lover. As we motored to the nearest 
County Clerk's office for our license, sparkling 
sunlight, blue water, a rich soft carpet spread over 
the Shinnecock Hills, white sails in the distance, 
dunes, and piney stretches, all passed by us like a 
happy accompaniment to the love song in our 
hearts. 





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OUR WEDDING DAY 



Marriage 51 

On the way home, a brief visit to the minister. 
"All I want is to say just what Beth says. Ill 
promise to obey if she likes." And to me, "I 
don't want to say 'I take thee Elizabeth.' Can't 
I say 'Beth'? You have never seemed like 
'Elizabeth' tome." 

"Here!" he used to say to me last winter when 
I was intractable: "We'll have that marriage 
service all over again with 'obey ' left in ! " 

And so we were married, and fervently spoke 
the vow: "To love and to cherish, until death 
do us part." 

Only intimate friends were with us, and though 
I wore white I did not wish to wear the formal 
veil, and my only jewel was the Captain's bars 
bravely won for love of me. Our altar was im- 
provised in an alcove of the living-room, a beautiful 
American flag in the background, a wedding bell 
of white flowers overhead, and the only flowers 
about us were the brave garden gladioli, whose 
name means little swords. Arthur forgot his cue, 
and instead of waiting, came to the foot of the 
stairs with hands outstretched to meet me, and I — 
I ran to take them and left my father stranded. 

He had never met my husband till that day, and 
my friends had been a little concerned for me it 
seems. "She has only known him for a week!" 



52 In White Armor 

But I knew just what would happen when he came, 
and so it all fell out. Arthur had a way, especially 
with older women, of taking a hand offered in 
greeting in both of his, and a grave sweet deference 
went with it. Everybody loved him, and every- 
body said there never was a more beautiful wed- 
ding, and yet to our surprise there were tears in 
many eyes. We were too happy to understand. 
One of the friends there told me lately that she 
went home and cried. "For," she said: "I felt 
he would never come back from the war. He was 
too complete, too perfect a man for this world." 

I think it was his eyes. Often they frightened 
me, for they had the look that Raphael painted in 
the eyes of the child of the Sistine Madonna, 
a far-seeing look — something that suggested pre- 
destined martyrdom. It was his eyes surely that 
made so many tell me right on my wedding day 
and often afterwards, that Arthur was as beautiful 
as Christ. Then, too, upon his wedding day he 
was more grave than gay, for he had not only just 
dedicated his life to Love, the long desired, but 
very lately he had taken oath of allegiance to his 
country. 

While a merry group of us were on the lawn and 
I had only a few more moments to spare before 
our train time, the orchestra struck into the 



Marriage 53 

Star Spangled Banner. A flag upon a high pole 
stood out rippling and beautiful against the 
brilliant sky. Arthur facing it came rigidly to 
attention, the sunlight turning his soft sweep of 
hair to pure gold, his slim young body tense, and 
from his face shone out the rapture of a double 
consecration. 

"I tried to get a picture of him, but I couldn't. 
I was crying like a baby," said a friend. And yet 
for us there was only radiant happiness. We 
grasped at life and joy and service as Arthur the 
King, when Merlin handed him the brand Excali- 
bur. "Take thou and strike! The time to cast 
away is yet far off." 

Uncle Sam allowed Arthur only ten days' leave 
from duty, and five of those made up our honey- 
moon, spent at an inn in the Berkshires twelve 
miles from the nearest railroad, — a spot I had 
discovered and loved in college years. Just real 
American country! With brooks and bobolinks 
and lurking cows and hilltops ever leading on to 
more hilltops, until I first received a favorite 
nick-name, ' ' Little fat wife puff -puff. ' ' Fences too, 
and barbed-wire entanglements, over which I was 
lifted and set down quite as if I were not a "fat 
wife" at all. Arthur's physical strength was 
always a surprise to those who judged him by his 



54 In White Armor 

slim and almost delicate appearance. He was all 
splendidly trained muscle. 

One might have thought our honeymoon had 
started inauspiciously. Our trunks had left the 
Netherlands Hotel in New York. One hour 
before train-time, Arthur, engaged in cramming 
the contents of two suit-cases into one, put his 
knee clear through his newest and most expensive 
uniform. It was funny, but quite tragic too, 
and was the first occasion upon which I heard 
a vigorous expletive from my husband. "But 
never you mind, "he adjured me cheerfully, "and 
don't be worried if I am a bit late. I'll just rush 
down to Brooks Brothers and get mended, and 
come back for you here. We will make that 
train!" 

So off he dashed, oblivious of one bare knee, and 
did not return again until eight minutes before our 
train was to leave the Grand Central. Our taxi 
only hit the high spots between 59th Street and 
the station, and there I closed my eyes, got a good 
clutch on the edge of Arthur's coat, and swept 
through the air behind him. The gate was in the 
act of being closed when we reached the "lower 
level" — (does a train ever leave from the upper 
level when one is late?), but we squeezed through, 
grasped the hand-rail of the rear car, and by the 



Marriage 55 

time we reached 125th Street, I found myself 
in our drawing-room just able to gasp: "Wh- 
what about the trunks?" 

What about them, indeed? We saw them again 
the day before we left Ashfield, the bad guilty 
pair, and, barely having time to kiss them on the 
brow, we turned them over to the hotel porter 
with instructions to check them to New York. 

I can never forget the air of tragedy with which 
our host came to the supper-table that night and 
said : "I have bad news for you . " — " The trunks ? ' ' 
cried Arthur. "Yes, — they have been checked 
by mistake to Boston, and James even bought 
you some Boston tickets. Here they are." 

"Good lord, — just let me see James a minute, — 
or no, tell him from me his life is in danger. Good 
lord, Beth, — what a shame for you!" 

Ten days later they arrived in triumph in 
Atlanta, and I was able to put aside borrowed 
clothes and enjoy my trousseau. But as the 
only purpose of that was to please Arthur, and he 
had seemed quite contented with things as they 
were, to our minds the independent behavior 
and initiative of those trunks became merely a 
matter for boastful pride. 



CHAPTER V 



CAMP GORDON 



"He neither wore on helm or shield 
The golden symbol of his kinglihood, 
But rode a simple knight among his knights." 

Honeymoon days were over when we reached 
Atlanta, and Arthur reported immediately for 
duty at Camp Gordon. This was during the 
last week of August, and the cantonment, though 
nearly ready for its vast contingent of troops, 
was still apparently chaotic. Carpenters were 
hammering and nailing and sawing, trucks were 
streaming back and forth between Atlanta and the 
camp, and recruits without properly equipped 
barracks and uniforms, were being drilled in the 
nondescript garments of civilian days — here and 
there a small detachment of them turning con- 
fusedly in every direction at the command " Squads 
right!" and leaning over backwards to the tune of 
"tention!" Meanwhile for the young officers 
came a period of suspense until the time when 
their assignments were made public. 

To Arthur on that day came disappointment. 
56 



Camp Gordon 57 

He was assigned to a department called the 
"Ammunition Train," the duties of which remain 
vaguely in my mind as something to be severely 
scorned. I am sure it was an honorable branch 
of the service, possibly allied to the Ordnance, 
but it was a non-combatant branch, a safe branch, 
and as such despised by a "fighting man." There 
were wrinkles in Arthur's forehead when he came 
home that evening to our temporary caravanserai, 
and between mouthfuls of dinner there was much 
muttering to the effect of, "Watch me get back to 
the regiment! Want to put me where the bullets 
are thickest, do they? Ammunition Train indeed. 
No thanks, — not that way. Why I could have 
had a Captaincy in the Ordnance for the asking 
in Florida. Why in the world should one take 
that course at McPherson for such work as that? 
Beth, how would you like a Quartermaster for a 
husband, anyhow?" 

"I'd hate it if he was as cross as you are about it." 
"They all tell me that I can't get back, that 
such things are not done in the army, that an 
assignment is an assignment in this army. I tell 
you that I will be back within ten days. Do you 
believe me?" 

"I certainly do, if that is what you have made 
up your mind to do. Eat your dinner, dear." 



58 In White Armor 

"Yes, they tell me an order is an order, and 
nothing to be done about it. Just wait, that's 
all, — " etc. I have never before or since had 
such a grumbler for a husband. 

Later in the evening we spoke of it more seri- 
ously, weighing the issue, and he frankly told me 
that acceptance meant safety for us, while the 
fight for a bigger thing meant heavy responsibility, 
separation, strain, and hazard. We agreed that 
he should make the fight. 

The rest of it I learned from an officer who was 
present the following day at the 326th Infantry 
Headquarters. 

The Colonel of that regiment had never before 
seen Captain Hamm, who entered the office and 
stood at attention. 

"Well?" asked the Colonel. 

"Colonel M , I have a grievance to state." 

"What is it?" said the Colonel, his attention 
arrested by such an unusual opening, and his eye 
running over the upright young figure and the 
vivid face before him. 

Thereupon Arthur stated concisely his special 
qualifications for the training and command of 
troops, and pointed out that it was not only to 
the advantage of the regiment but of the nation 
that each man's power should be utilized to the 



Camp Gordon 59 

utmost. And in particular that of one Captain 
Arthur Ellis Hamm, here present at attention. 

"How I wish you could have heard him! It 
was great!" said the witness to me. 

"Very well, Captain," was the Colonel's non- 
committal rejoinder, "I will see what I can do for 
you." But when Arthur had saluted and left the 
office, he turned to his Adjutant and said enthusi- 
astically, "I simply must have that officer in my 
regiment!" 

Arthur's prediction came true, and within ten 
days he was attached to the 326th Infantry, in 
command of Company M, and afterward received 
his full assignment. 

To make good was then his great desire, the 
more because he had stated his own abilities in no 
uncertain fashion, and because the Colonel had 
put so much faith in him. A tremendous work 
lay before him, and he gloried in the prospect. 

During those first few days at camp, Arthur was 
engaged in meeting and marshaling new troops, 
and it was a revelation to me to watch the trans- 
formation of my husband into an authoritative 
officer. His voice, his bearing, his decision made 
it impossible to believe he had not been born and 
bred in the army. The poor conscripts looked 
hot, dusty, tired, and discouraged, some pitifully 



6o In White Armor 

dazed. And they looked discouraging too, many- 
foreign born, the rest with few exceptions "Crack- 
er" types, morose, sulky, and slouchy in demeanor. 
They were stoop-shouldered, hollow-chested, and 
the coughing that went down the line was pathetic. 
Arthur said: "Wait three weeks, and then come 
out here and look at those bullies! They will 
make the best soldiers in the world, and some 
morning early they'll up and over the top, and 
give Fritz particular Hell!" 

With what enthusiasm he came home to me not 
long after this and said: "Do you know, I had 
the first sign to-day that the boys of my company 
have got together? As I started out from the 
barracks I heard a bunch of them singing: 

"Oh I'd rather belong to Company M than any 

command I know. 
We do more work in Company M than any 

command I know." 
But I'd rather belong to Company M than any 

command I know." 

It made me feel great — you can't imagine." 

But I could imagine, for I knew how hard their 
Captain had worked to give them a sense of loyalty 
and pride and love for their organization. He had 
taken the time of Retreat each evening to talk to 




Camp Gordon 61 

them about their place in the mighty war scheme, 
little talks about citizenship which made them 
feel a part of something bigger than themselves. 
He tried to explain in simple words the issues 
of the war, and the honor paid them by the United 
States in calling them to defend that which had 
protected them. It was difficult, for some of the 
men from remote mountain regions had scarcely 
known that there was a war, and they had left 
their farms and women and children stunned by 
the catastrophe that had seemingly overtaken 
them. Others only knew that they had left their 
own countries to avoid military service, and that 
now they were "conscripts," a word that un- 
fortunately rhymed with "convicts," and that 
they did not understand. It was wonderful how 
quickly they responded to encouragement and 
instruction, and how enthusiastically they set 
about to make the camp habitable and attractive. 
By dint of tremendous effort on the part of the 
officers, and a last spurt by the carpenters and 
plumbers, Camp Gordon had been transformed 
within a month into one of the least desolate of 
the National Army camps. It was built to house 
sixty thousand men, and four thousand officers, — a 
city in itself, reminiscent of a western mining 
town, but animated with a nobler, more self- 



62 In White Armor 

sacrificing ideal than any city ever built before. 
It was set down among trees, which were allowed 
to stand, trees that overarched the company streets 
and the high ground and rolling country made for 
beauty and for health. There was a constant 
effort toward improvement, each company taking 
pride in its own street and barracks, and our 
regimental Headquarters was surrounded by a 
really and truly lawn, and a little white fence. 
Even our Infirmary was entered through an 
arched gateway, topped by a sign so resplendent 
and dazzling that it was the marvel of all beholders, 
and one felt it would be a privilege indeed to enter 
those portals. It was the greatest masterpiece of 
an M Company carpenter. 

That same carpenter and his assistants built a 
garage for the regiment. Aspersions have been 
cast at that garage, but nevertheless it remained 
the only one in existence. 

The lumber for these exploits was generally 
stolen from someone else, all portable property 
being considered fair game in the army! K 
Company was well supplied with lumber, which 
it claimed to have come by honestly, and for a 
time it changed hands every night, — first stolen 
by Company M, and the next night transferred 
back by the indignant members of Company K. 



Camp Gordon 63 

" Don't ask me where to get lumber," the cap- 
tain would say, — "Just get it." And the result 
of that was the company had a terrible reputation. 
The loss of a mule from the corral was discussed 
one night at an officers' meeting, and someone 
suggested that M Company barracks be thoroughly 
searched. They went too far once, however! 
Colonel M was accumulating lumber to in- 
crease the size of his office, and he particularly 
said to Arthur: "Captain Hamm, steal where you 
like for that garage, but just let my lumber alone, 
do you hear?" 

It wasn't many hours after the delivery of this 
injunction that the Colonel, chancing to look out 
of his window, was roused to immediate and 
ferocious action, by the sight of a stream of 
men bearing choice boards upon their shoulders. 
I heard about it from him afterward. 

' ' No indeed your husband did not appear around 
here for some time, Mrs. Hamm. I just couldn't 
locate him." 

And Arthur said: "Golly, — I saw the Colonel 
steaming out of there with his face red, and I plain 
ducked. I felt it was no auspicious moment for 
an explanation, — no matter how good and con- 
clusive!" 

The officers of the 326th were the first of any 



64 In White Armor 

camp to establish an officers' club. An empty- 
barracks was used for the purpose, and the pride 
of the regiment was the great stone fireplace, built 
by Captain Parker and his men. Here were held 
the weekly dances, or gathered on a Sunday 
morning cheerful groups before the blaze, discus- 
sing everything in the world except war. Many 
a delightful hour I have spent there, always in 
good company, waiting for Arthur to finish some 
work, Billikin, M Company mascot, biting at 
everybody's boots, — "Dogs not allowed" being no 
bar to Billy. He was too little to be a regular 
dog. 

All this building and planning took a long while 
for complete accomplishment, and meanwhile, 
and until the army was organized and all the re- 
cruits were in, the immediate responsibilities resting 
upon the Captains were very great. Each com- 
pany commander had to furnish his own company 
room, build his offices, organize company and mess 
funds, and oversee every arrangement in kitchen 
and mess hall. Arthur's inventive faculty and 
business experience brought quick results, and 
many an enquiring Captain was sent over to get 
information from him on organization, or the 
arrangement of his orderly room. Arthur saw 
personally to the screening of his bread-boxes 



Camp Gordon 65 

and refrigerators. His kitchen could bear the in- 
spection of an exacting New England housewife 
as well during the preparation of a meal, as when 
ordered for special inspection. It was always 
neat, quiet, and appetizing. Arthur insisted that 
every corner of his establishment should reach at 
all times the perfection required for inspection, 
and he seldom gave warning of his intention to 
inspect . 

Though I have often gone into his kitchen, I 
have never looked in the mess hall while the men 
were at a meal. Arthur had a rooted objection to 
this. 

"It is a time of recreation for them," he said, 
"and it makes them feel like a bunch of monkeys 
to have visitors stare in at them. I avoid going 
in myself as much as possible, because I hate 
to bring them to attention." 

Their recreation room contained a pool table, a 
victrola, a piano, a good library, and facilities for 
writing. But the most appreciated contribution 
to the comfort of the men was a set of white enamel 
dishes, and plated knives and forks and spoons. 
To abolish the mess kits for a time, and to see 
their places set at table decently and in order did 
more than anything else to increase self-respect 
and good manners among the soldiers. 



66 In White Armor 

Arthur also invented a folding mail-box, and 
occupied several successive Sunday afternoons 
in planning and in visiting the same little woman 
at Fort McPherson who had fitted him out before 
our marriage. She constructed this ingenious con- 
trivance out of heavy denim, and it was a great 
success, especially in the field. 

Most pleasant and diverting of his schemes 
was the " Fritz" that he had made for bayonet 
practice. It was a marvelous life-like affair, 
that could be trundled about on wheels, and that 
had a hole in the region of its stomach, through 
which the instructor could parry bayonet thrusts 
with a pole. "All the Colonels were down playing 
with my Fritz to-day!" said its proud inventor. 

Altogether there were considerable justice and 
reason for the men of Captain Hamm's company 
to sing : 

"But we'd rather belong to Company M than any 
command we know!" 



CHAPTER VI 

GLADYS 

"He dashed the rowel in his steed 
And bounded forth and vanished through the night." 

There were problems at home in Atlanta as 
well as at the camp. Arthur was most anxious 
to see me in a comfortable home, and was finally 
successful in locating a pleasant suite of rooms in 
one of Atlanta's private houses. The only draw- 
back to the arrangement was that we were obliged 
to go out for meals, and he on my behalf, and I on 
his, chafed at this necessity. I felt that for my 
husband something near to home-life was needful 
in order to offset the atmosphere of hard work 
and barren quarters at camp. He had never had 
a real home, and longed ardently for all that the 
word stands for. 

The next step after unpacking those recalcitrant 
trunks of ours, was to secure some independent 
means of going to and from the cantonment. 
Twelve miles on the running board of a jitney 
Ford was the only alternative to a possible lift 

67 



68 In White Armor 

from a fellow-officer with a car. As the roads 
were in a state that defies description, and so 
remained during the entire winter, only more 
and more impassable, the only way that we could 
hope to be together at all was to have our own car. 
Now it did not seem to us that we could afford 
to buy one just then, though as it turned out we 
could have saved a fortune by so doing. How- 
ever Gladys was worth a fortune. I cannot 
imagine what we would have found as a counter- 
irritant to war, had we not had those garage bills 
to worry over. 

I bethought me that my brother, then in France, 
had left an Overland car in cold storage somewhere 
in the north. Naturally I took for granted that 
he would be enchanted to donate this vehicle 
to the service, and the idea of shipping it down 
seemed positively inspirational. To Arthur it 
was the final proof that his wife was, once and for 
all time, the most wonderful girl in the world. 
No sooner conceived therefore than done, and a 
page of history was turned when Gladys came to 
us. 

She was named for Mr. Britling's car, not in 
anticipation of a similar fate, but because we 
realized at once that we had to deal with a tem- 
perament. She was more dead than alive after 




GLADYS AND O'GRADY 



Gladys 69 

the journey, and spent one day under the care 
and ministration of Dr. Arthur, who was never 
more happy than when tinkering with a machine. 
She screamed at starting, but once under way 
discovered the secret of perpetual motion, and we 
rocked up the street in a state of helpless laughter 
saying joyously to each other that our time had 
certainly come. It took fully a week to reduce 
her to subjection, though we placed in her a faith 
that should have aroused better instincts. I 
remember one day that we spent at a country 
club not far from Gordon. During the luncheon 
hour a terrific thunder storm came up. Arthur 
put up side curtains but was unable to house the 
car, which seriously resented the wetting. At 
three o'clock she went into a state of complete 
coma, from which nothing could rouse her to 
any sign of life beyond a low groan. Meantime 
Arthur heard in the distance the whistle of a 
train of recruits that he was supposed to have met. 
Those are the times that try men's souls, but 
Arthur remained "More than usual cam, — he did 
not give a single damn," and thoroughly enjoyed 
an unexpected holiday, pending the arrival of a 
car from Atlanta. 

During the course of six months, Gladys stripped 
her gears, broke her clutch, crumpled every mud- 



70 In White Armor 

guard, broke her front axle and knelt in the road, 
broke the rear axle and sat down on her haunches, 
smashed her tail-light, was relieved by some 
envious person of her spot -light (which was her 
only bright light), lost all the allied flags which 
we gave her as a reward for traveling one week 
without a blow-out, and did other things too 
technical for me to understand to her spark-plugs 
and dynamo. In short she suffered every ill a 
car is heir to. And in spite of all this she gradually 
acquired an enviable reputation — that of always 
arriving at her destination. She was a famous 
and beloved character, known by the entire camp, 
and honored and preferred. 

Her gradually achieved efficiency was due in 
part to a mechanic in M Company — an Irishman 
from Brooklyn with a Bowery accent, named 
O' Grady. O' Grady was a man whose loyalty 
and resourcefulness on behalf of a friend was to 
be altogether trusted. He loved and admired 
Arthur, who, in his opinion, was the only Captain 
in the army worthy the name, and beyond doubt 
the only man who could induce him, O' Grady, to 
go to France and fight the Hun. "Leave dat car 
to me," he said, "and you won't have no more of 
dem garage bills." Ours not to question how, but 
new and beautiful seat cushions appeared one 



Gladys 71 

day in Gladys, and I would not dare to enumerate 
the adornments and equipment that replaced her 
former parts. "I have told O'Grady again and 
again that he mustn't do it," said Arthur to me, 
"and I have assured him that if he gets run in, I 
won't help to get his fines paid, nor his term in 
the penitentiary shortened. Positively I haven't 
dared to mention that new back seat. It looks 
like a Packard, doesn't it? Whatever her out- 
side appearance, Gladys is pure gold within. I 
have told O'Grady that it's a mercy you can't 
get a Rolls-Royce engine under that hood, 
or we sure would have one!" The spot-light, 
which was bought and paid for, was not stolen 
until the week before we left Atlanta, so I am 
afraid that adequate retributive justice never 
overtook us. Indeed we ultimately sold her for 
three hundred dollars, cash down, — a thrilling mo- 
ment in our lives. 

It was during what is called the rainy season in 

Atlanta that Colonel M acquired the Gladys 

habit. All seasons in Atlanta are rainy, but the 
fall rains have their own peculiar attributes, and 
win the prize. The road to town was in a shocking 
condition, and rumor, correct for once, had it that 
over ninety cars were stuck between the city and 
the camp. It was still raining. 



72 In White Armor 

" Major B " asked the Colonel, "do you 

think you can get into the city to-night ?" 

"Well, I hope so, Colonel, but the roads are 
terrible, and one can't be sure." 

"How about you, Captain Hamm?" 

"/am going to Atlanta to-night, Sir, and shall 
be glad to take you with me." 

They departed amid laughter, but the Colonel 
muttered to Arthur, as he took his seat beside 
him, "I like at least to travel with someone who 
thinks he can get there." 

Gladys became thenceforth the favorite jitney 
for not only the Colonel, but for his Adjutant, 
and for the French and British officers at Camp. 
She was always full to capacity, going and coming, 
"For," said Arthur, "it makes me unhappy to 
have a vacant seat." Sometimes when we were 
out|together he would stop and invite some old 
lady, who was patiently awaiting a car, to be taken 
to her destination, whispering to me: "You 
don't mind, 'Little Sweetheart'?" 

My first meeting with the British officers, took 
place one day when I was strolling up Peachtree 
Street with a friend for whom Arthur had his own 
private and particular nick-name. I was not 
expecting to see Arthur home so soon, but a 
familiar honk made me start and look up to behold 



Gladys 73 

Gladys charging down the street, literally oozing 
the British Army. Arthur saw me at the same 
instant, put on the brakes, jumped out and cried, 
"Oh, — this is my family, my wife and Mother 
Helen, — and I can't remember the names of you 
chaps, but these are the English officers !" 

It was an Arthurish introduction, but he was 
beaming, and up went five right hands in the 
"smart" salute, so dear to the Englishman, and 
there was no ice at all to break. We were friends 
at once. "Just got to drop these fellows at the 
Terrace for tea," said Arthur aside to me, "but 
I shall not stay and watch them drink it. Be 
with you soon, Dear." Then cheerily as he threw 
in the clutch, "Bye-bye, Little Wife dear!" and 
they disappeared up the street. It was wonder- 
ful how everybody got the impression that my 
husband loved me ! 

I traveled back and forth to my French class 
at Camp Gordon, with O' Grady as driver, for 
my husband could not come for me on those 
evenings. One night we were driving out of camp 
at top speed, and were stopped at the outpost by 
a sentry. 

"Look here," he said angrily. "You can't 
drive down this road at fifty miles an hour ! You 
give me the name of your company." 



74 In White Armor 

"Why this is Mrs. Hamm," said O'Grady, 
"and Gladys. You can't stop Gladys." 

The sentry looked confused, but determined 
and grim. "I don't know who Mrs. Hamm is, 
nor Gladys neither, and you get reported for 
speeding, you do." 

"I tell you what," said O'Grady, "call up 
326th Infantry Headquarters, and ask Colonel 
M about it." 

A few minutes later the bewildered sentry came 
away from his telephone box, scratched his head, 
gave it up, and said: "Well, the Colonel says, 
'Oh that's Gladys, is it? She is privileged. Let 
Gladys pass.' So I reckon I got to." 

Ah, what happy hours were spent in Gladys! 
The only unwelcome view I ever had of her was 
of that red tail-light streaking up the street, 
Arthur, late always in getting away, bound for 
camp, the glorious week-end over. Many long 
Sundays we drove about the Georgia hills, just 
my husband and no other, and often at night we 
speeded away by moonlight, the top down, the 
spot-light unwinding a ribbon of road ahead, 
darkness yielding to that refulgent glare, and 
trees and woods all mysterious shadows flying 
by. And such a joy to love the chauffeur, and to 
have him so easily able to drive with one hand 




Gladys 75 

at forty miles an hour ! Not to care for anything 
because we were together! Dear Gladys, what 
golden hours she gave us after all, and how con- 
siderate she was in her choice of times and seasons 
for collapse ! 

At night, the lights turned low in my sitting- 
room, a little fire crackling welcome on the hearth, 
I, dressed all in white, would watch for her 
Cyclopean eye, and as it rushed down the hill to- 
ward the house, her hoarse honk would herald her 
approach, and seemed to me the sweetest music 
in the world. Before she had time to reach the 
door it was open, the cold fresh air rushing past 
me, and as he so often said, it was "As it should 
be, — just Beth and Arthur." 



CHAPTER VII 

DISCIPLINE 

. . . "I never saw his like. There lives 
No greater leader." 

The draft of troops for Camp Gordon, originally 
from the States of Alabama, Florida, and Georgia, 
proved a failure. There were not a sufficient 
number of men in sound health from those States 
to fill the cantonment. Their coughing made it 
difficult to hear a roll-call. Physical exercise put 
them down and out. How so many mentally 
and physically deficient men were passed by the 
local draft boards is inexplicable. After six weeks' 
trial it was decided to send the sick to their homes, 
and to transfer those who were fit for service to 
units of the National Guard, while Camp Gordon 
was filled from the overflow of Northern camps, 
and in particular from the 77th, or Metropolitan 
Division, then training at Upton. The 82 d 
Division was therefore a Northern unit, officered 
for the most part by Southerners and with a 
nucleus of Southern non-commissioned officers, 

76 



Discipline 77 

retained at the time of the transfer by each Com- 
pany Commander. The two Divisions were sent 
to France at the same time, and formed part of 
the second army corps. Of the thirty-five thou- 
sand men that I have seen so often in review at 
Gordon, less than five thousand were left in action 
when the armistice was signed. It was one of the 
best Divisions at the front, and bore the brunt of 
the St. Mihiel and Argonne campaigns. 

Their future history was unpredictable when 
first these men, most of them ignorant and 
foreign born, were shipped to the South. It was 
rather too much to expect that the officers at 
Camp Upton should send us what they considered 
their best material. There were more than sixty 
men in Arthur's company who did not understand 
a word of English, and for whom schools in English 
had to be organized. Nine nationalities were 
represented in the company, and it was a curiosity 
to hear the roll-call. Their Captain was greatly 
enthused about them, as no doubt he would have 
been by any increase in the difficulties of his work. 

"I like them," he said. "That is the type of 
man that I can handle and train best. They are 
mean, tough-looking customers, regular fighters. 
I don't need to apply aromatic spirits of ammonia 
to them! Hard to discipline? Not really, if 



78 In White Armor 

you know human psychology. First demonstrate 
your physical superiority — that is most im- 
portant. Then recognize them as human beings, 
and give them just, square, and decent treatment. 
They know that during a military formation I 
am without mercy, but that off duty they can 
come to me for any purpose whatever. If any 
man thinks I have been unjust to him and will 
come to my office Hke a man and a soldier, and 
speak as if he knew his own mind, I am always 
perfectly willing to hear what he has to say. I 
won't have a slinking, cringing man in my presence. 

"It takes them a little while to understand the 
combination of humanity and stern discipline, 
but when they get the idea they like and respect 
the system.' * 

Captain Hamm thoroughly detested an apolo- 
getic man, and it was difficult for him to be patient 
with weakness. He demanded and instilled self- 
respect in the members of his company, and he 
straightened their backs no more than he stiffened 
their manhood. 

"Do something!'' he would say to them. "I 
would rather you did wrong than did nothing. 
At least if you are reported to me for a misde- 
meanor I know who you are, and that you have 
some initiative. It is up to me to divert your 






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Discipline 79 

misdirected energy into sane channels, but it 
would comfort me to know that the energy was 
there. And for heaven's sake don't mutter at 
me! When you have anything to say stand 
straight at attention and say it like a soldier. 
Most of you seem to be ashamed of your own 
names. When I call the roll I want you to shout 
so that the whole regiment can hear." 

Captain Hamm stood at least fifty feet away 
from the company at roll-call in order to enforce 
this order. 

O' Grady was my chief informant on the point 
of view of the company. He and most of the 
boys from the North were delighted at the change 
from the barren wastes of Long Island to Gordon's 
pleasant situation. They also maintained that in 
the relations between officers and men they were 
happier than in the North. 

"We are well treated here," O'Grady said. 
"I hated coming so far from New York, but I am 
darned glad now of the transfer." 

From him too I had the account of the "Cap'- 
n's" first demonstration of physical superiority. 

"You know, Mrs. Hamm, when we foist seen 
him standing out in front of the compn'y we 
kind of laughed — him such a slim looking boy to 
manage a bunch of us rough-necks! We figured 



80 In White Armor 

we would have it easy. Do you know what he 
done? He started telling us about a position 
of the rifle, — held it out straight in front of him, 
and while he walks up and down the line his gun 
never moves — for I should say ten or fifteen 
minutes, Mrs. Hamm. After the foist few min- 
utes my arm begins to ache and to sag, and his 
back was to me if you'll believe it and he swings 
around on me wid: 'You there, straighten out 
your arm! Don't let me see no arms sagging!' 
Gee, my arm was lame for a week, and a lot of us 
was on the ground and Cap'n walking around easy 
like — you know the way he does — all the time. 
When we gets back to the barracks we says, well we 
ain't got no such easy mark after all." 

Arthur always joined in physical exercise, 
giving commands at the same time, and was 
never satisfied until he had downed a few of his 
men. In his heart he was sorry for the men who 
fainted, but he could not show it. Better for 
them, he thought, to learn to endure beyond en- 
durance, to come in from a long hike staggering but 
with teeth clenched on grim resolution, than that 
there should be any stragglers from M Company 
in France. He penalized dropping out of ranks 
on a hike, and prided himself on having an empty 
' ' monkey wagon. ' ' 



Discipline 81 

His company was commended in the first days of 
training because it was the only one that did not 
fan out and break ranks when it came to a river. 
He saw the companies in advance separating and 
hesitating, and gave the order: "Go through it, 
if it's up to your necks !" and went ahead, splashing 
waist-deep in the water to show how little he 
minded it. 

It would be impossible to overestimate the 
difficulties met and overcome by our young Na- 
tional Army officers that last winter. Every feature 
of modern warfare was a new proposition, and 
except for the advice of the British and French 
commissions the problem had to be approached 
from a new and creative standpoint. It was 
inevitable that mistakes should be made, pre- 
conceptions tried out and discarded, and that 
the civilian training should go through an experi- 
mental stage which delayed results and tried the 
souls of the young men fresh from Officers' Train- 
ing Schools. The American boy, especially one 
who has been trained as Arthur was in adaptability, 
quickness of thought, and independent action, 
was equal to the task, although it was the greatest 
that has ever been put up to him. In particu- 
lar the Company Commanders, upon whom the 
most responsibility devolved, suffered impatience 



82 In White Armor 

at the system under which they were required to 
work. The demands made upon their strength 
and nerve were almost beyond the endurance of 
a high-strung temperament, — the very tempera- 
ment that makes the best officer and leader. 
They had to deal with orders and counter-orders 
innumerable. They were required to be present 
at Reveille every morning, although their only 
time for actual constructive brain-work was at 
night. They were also required to attend every 
military formation during the day. 

Captain Hamm took his responsibilities very 
seriously, and the only criticism of his work that 
I ever heard was that he did not know how to 
spare himself. He felt that his company was as 
much under his care and control as if he were their 
Special Providence, and he never wavered from 
the view of his duty to them expressed at Fort 
McPherson: "They are entitled to every chance 
of life, and absolute discipline, willing discipline, is 
their best chance." How consistently he realized 
this ideal is attested by the fact that, although 
in the forefront of battle from June, 191 8, until 
the middle of September, the first man from M 
Company to die for his country was Arthur Hamm. 

Under his command by Christmas time last 
year were two hundred and fifty men, four lieu- 



Discipline 83 

tenants, and thirty non-commissioned officers. To 
wield that big organization as one man obedient 
to his will, to make of those separate entities a unit 
which should be dependable and powerful, which 
should one night follow their Commander un- 
falteringly out into a hail of machine-gun fire, and 
should hold the American line in Lorraine steady 
under ferocious attack and deadly bombard- 
ment — this was the big proposition that Arthur 
handled, bringing to it every ounce of nerve and 
courage that he possessed. Who but the ideal 
and typical American could have faced the task 
with confidence? No one state or section of 
America could claim him. The length of our 
Atlantic coast, from Massachusetts to Florida had 
been the scene of his adventuring. No influence, 
no backing, no aid, no financial assistance, no 
political pull, not even friendly encouragement 
contributed to his success. The sort of thing he 
did is the sort of thing we like to believe America 
alone can help a man to do, and she can do it every 
time when a man is born with American ideals 
in his heart, and dynamic energy to send him on 
his way. The broken-hearted and determined 
little boy, who went into the world alone ten years 
before, had reached the crest of manhood and 
achievement, taken his important place in the great 



84 In White Armor 

machine which finally beat down the morale of 
the German nation, its army, and its people. His 
own idealism he laid upon his men, and the power 
of his will he imposed upon their will. He imbued 
them with his own willingness to die, to surrender 
individual happiness to a principle of Good, to 
lay down material life in order that the spiritual 
heritage of Humanity might be enriched. 

1 ' Who fears to die ? " Arthur once asked me. "Is 
there any man worth living that is afraid to die? 
Life is very sweet to me, and I do not want to die, 
but I don't know what it is to be afraid." 



CHAPTER VIII 

PRACTICAL PSYCHOLOGY 

"And every homely face of theirs he knew 
As well as ever shepherd knew his sheep." 

Arthur's ways of dealing with human nature 
were an unfailing source of interest and amuse- 
ment to me. They were the result of his instinc- 
tive knowledge of psychology, and he owed that 
to his earlier experience in the handling of men, 
and to the study of motives and reactions con- 
nected with his work as a detective. For instance, 
in spite of the greatly prized enamel dishes, there 
came about a regression in the manners of the 
mess hall. Arthur said nothing, but instructed a 
carpenter to make a commodious square table at 
one end of the room, and to hang above it a large 
swinging sign bearing the legend, "HOG TABLE." 
At Retreat he remarked gently, "I suppose you 
have all noticed the new table in the mess hall. 
It is quite easy to obtain a seat at this table, and 
I have ordered the sergeants to assign you to it 
as rapidly as you qualify." The table remained 

85 



86 In White Armor 

empty, and there was no more butter-slinging 
at mess, but the sign hung as a warning for the 
remainder of the winter. 

Arthur's punishment for minor offenses was 
planned with an idea of fairness and uniformity 
which wholly precluded partiality. What he 
called a "bull-ring" was staked out in the Com- 
pany street, and the guilty man was required to 
march around it at attention and with full equip- 
ment for a certain number of hours, the time 
varying with the character of his offense. He 
could only work off his time in the ring during 
recreation hours, and sometimes it meant giving 
up all his freedom for several weeks. It was 
therefore a considerable hardship, but it seemed 
better to Arthur than docking a soldier's pay, or 
setting him at disagreeable work, which last he 
tried to divide evenly and squarely among the 
men. It was quite a sight to see the bull-ring on 
a Wednesday afternoon. The men disliked this 
punishment, but they did not resent it, because 
it came to all alike. 

In the month of December the Government sent 
for lists of the "conscientious objectors" of each 
cantonment. Captain Hamm chose the hour of 
Retreat for speaking on such matters to his com- 
pany. On this occasion he began simply by asking 



Practical Psychology 87 

the conscientious objectors of M Company to 
raise their hands. He confessed later to a sinking 
sense of discouragement and failure when sixty- 
hands went up. "After doing my level best to 
put some fight into those men, — yes it did hurt, 
but they never saw my face change." 

"Well, let me see how many of you know just 
what a conscientious objector is," he remarked 
quietly. "You, Eisenstein, why do you feel this 
way?" 

"Veil, y'understand, Cap'n, I don't vant I 
should kill nopoddy." 

' ' How about you, Cardello ? ' ' 

"I no likea to keella neither. Eet makka me 
ver' seek when I hitta da Fritz.' ' 

All the rest followed this promising cue with 
varying eloquence. When Arthur had heard 
them out and had gathered in all the evidence, 
he said: "You men have been expressing a very 
humane and worthy feeling here. You are agreed 
that you do not want to take human life. The rest 
of us are on a lower plane, and are yearning to kill. 
We like the idea. But don't be afraid. The govern- 
ment is not going to force you to kill anybody." 

Here came a pause during which relief and joy 
spread over sixty faces, and regret upon as many 
more. 



88 In White Armor 

"No indeed," continued the Captain, "you 
are to be allowed to serve the government in 
another and a nobler way. We are going to 
organize a company at Gordon especially for you 
men, training you for trench digging, barbed-wire 
cutting under fire, and other honorable and danger- 
ous duties. In order that you may not be tempted 
in any way, you will not be armed. Your con- 
sciences will be protected, and your rifles taken 
from you, for fear that you might, under some 
emotional impulse, be tempted to pull the trigger. 
Give in your names to Sergeant Price in the 
morning." 

The Sergeant received two names, those of 
Austrian Reservists, who were sent to an intern- 
ment camp, — and in M Company, bayonet practice 
went on with renewed vigor. 

Arthur was later obliged to discharge one of the 
original sixty for constitutional cowardice. He 
discovered the case one day when he had the men 
out for a hike, and came to a ditch about twelve 
feet deep, a sloping bank on the opposite side 
making a good landing. It was a fairly natural 
imitation of a trench, and the company was ordered 
to charge and leap into the ditch with fixed bayo- 
nets. It took nerve, and there were a couple of 
sprained ankles, yet all of the men went over but 




TRENCHES AT CAMP GORDON 



Practical Psychology 89 

one. While a lieutenant took over the company 
Arthur worked for an hour with this man, trying 
in every way to induce him to take the jump. 
Again and again Arthur jumped with him, a ser- 
geant standing on the other side. At the end of 
the hour the man was still as incapable of jumping 
alone as at the beginning. For weeks my husband 
tried to rouse courage in this poor fellow, overseeing 
his bayonet work, talking to him in his office, but 
all in vain. In the end he sent him home. The 
man was from New York, an east side tailor, 
pitiful in every way, for he made a real effort to 
be a soldier. 

Captain Hamm was reputed a stern disciplina- 
rian and a hard worker, but meanwhile he was 
furnishing destitute men with necessities, initiat- 
ing them into the use of nail-brushes and tooth- 
brushes, breaking them of gum and tobacco 
chewing and performing many little personal 
services for them in Atlanta. He required baths 
and shampoos three times a week, and the men 
from resenting this order, gradually increased 
their ablutions to daily showers, and complained 
summarily of new recruits who did not at once 
comply with the rules. One man came to Arthur 
protesting that he had never washed his head in his 
life, because he understood it caused "falling hair !" 



90 In White Armor 

When he would tell me of these things I used to 
sigh and ask whether it was a fighting unit or an 
orphan asylum that he had on his hands. There 
was nothing that he did not oversee and make 
himself responsible for. The school for illiterates 
made fast progress, largely because he refused to 
issue a pass to Atlanta to a single man who could 
not make a legible signature. Whenever a soldier 
was sick he went to see him, and once when the 
father of a boy dying of tuberculosis came to camp, 
Arthur gave up half the day to the old man, 
arranged a bunk for him in his orderly room, and 
got up a purse to furnish an ambulance for the 
dying soldier. 

Two deserters whose cases he felt to be worthy 
of leniency Arthur had tried for Absence Without 
Leave, and the penalty was docked pay. One of 
them came to him and said: "We hoped you 
would give us another chance, and you can bet we 
will make good soldiers from now on" — a promise 
that was well kept. 

Morals, manners, health, cleanliness, and manli- 
ness, were absorbed by M Company along with 
their military training. The Captain was Father 
Confessor to many a man who desired to square 
his record before leaving this country. Leave of 
absence was granted for weddings that should 



Practical Psychology 91 

legitimize the children of men who might never 
return to give them any other protection than their 
names. Women were assisted to the position of 
wife, and men to a new self-respect. The standards 
of health and decency were unusually high in the 
company. 0' Grady was one of those who went 
to New York for a wedding, and I shall never 
forget how he leaned against the side of the auto- 
mobile and cried when I gave him a warm little 
coat to take to the baby. 

All this work told heavily upon my husband's 
health, but we both felt it to be too splendid and 
constructive to be blocked. If he could possibly 
pull through I wanted him to do it, and to realize 
that boast that some day, "They'll get up in the 
morning early and over the top and give Fritz 
particular hell!" It was my privilege to have a 
share in it all. However keyed up Arthur was 
when he came home he relaxed almost at once 
into a happy boy and the peace of mind and heart 
that our marriage brought us both was our source 
of courage and strength. If anything troubled 
him at camp he called me up on the telephone, 
and before we rang off there would come a change 
in his voice and he would say: "Oh Beth, I 
don't believe I'll murder anybody after all!" 

And when he had been at home over Sunday he 



92 In White Armor 

would depart at five in the morning, whistling like 
a boy, only interrupting his whistling to set those 
batteries of dimples in action as he laughed and 
kissed his "dream-girl" "Good-by until to- 
morrow." 



CHAPTER IX 

FORTITUDE 

"My strength is as the strength of ten 
Because my heart is pure." 

The strain told very greatly upon Arthur's 
health and strength . By December first we moved 
to a beautiful Atlanta home, opened to us by the 
kindest of friends, where devoted care, home meals, 
and bright sunny quarters were ours. A delight- 
ful family life was supplemented by three rollick- 
ing dogs, a decorative Persian cat forever on the 
defensive, and industrious Jersey cows and Leg- 
horn hens, not to omit mention of Chuck, the pig. 
Open country nearby, a lovely garden at home, 
that fireplace in our own room, and the big one 
downstairs where yule logs burned and about 
which the officers found a cordial welcoming 
warmth, were among the blessings too many to 
enumerate that made for our happiness and 
health. When Arthur was at home our break- 
fasts were brought to us by one shaped like an 
orang-outang, but with the soul of a Christian, 

93 



94 In White Armor 

and the griddle cakes that "Cinders" made for us 
were surely the best I ever ate. If my husband 
was to leave early in the morning for camp there 
appeared like magic on the stand outside our door 
a box of sandwiches and a thermos bottle of hot 
chocolate. But even under these changed condi- 
tions Arthur was constantly threatened with a 
nervous breakdown. 

Throughout his year and a half of military life 
he struggled against the mental fatigue of over- 
work and insufficient sleep. The fact was that all 
his life he had disregarded material limitations 
and had driven body and mind with a whiplash. 
Someone said to me that it was impossible to 
imagine Arthur "static," and he himself confessed 
that he had never been able to relax before. His 
body was hard and fit, but he had the quiver- 
ing nerves of the thoroughbred. He weighed a 
hundred and thirty-eight pounds, and was six feet 
one inch in height. The heart murmur discovered 
in training-camp days increased in its power to 
annoy him. He could not rest any weight on his 
left side in shooting because the heavy pulse de- 
stroyed his aim. He suffered constantly from 
nervous headaches, and from chronic tonsillitis. 
All these things he carefully concealed from the 
army doctors, but I finally induced him to go 



Fortitude 95 

with me to the leading diagnostician in Atlanta 

for advice. Dr. R protested against his 

continuance in command of troops, and told me 
that he was predestined for shell shock if he ever 
saw the trenches. 

"What will happen if I keep on?" asked Arthur. 

"You will break down nervously and have to 
spend weeks in a hospital." 

"And after that?" 

"You will recover with rest and care." 

"I will begin to take it seriously when you get 
me down and out for good," said Arthur. 

He fainted once while talking to the Colonel 
in the drill field, but the shock of hitting the 
ground brought him at once to his feet again with 
the laughing assurance that he was "all right." 
Often he came home at night and fell on the bed 
in a state of unconsciousness so profound as to 
resemble a swoon. Except to swing his feet up 
on the bed, cover him, and feed him at intervals, 
I never disturbed him until it was time to start 
back to duty. Awake at last he could not believe 
that so many hours had passed, or that he had 
eaten, and he was distressed to be unable to wait 
on me in the many sweet ways that he had when 
he was well. Nervous tears filled his eyes if I 
protested against that care for me, as I did when 



9 6 In White Armor 

he was so tired. How many times he has come 
home exhausted and proposed a movie, or some 
other entertainment to which I was indifferent, 
saying: "My little girl doesn't get out enough. 
She has no pleasure, and I just come home and 
go to bed like a great big stupid. Get on your 
things quick and well go for a nice ride, — hurry 
Girl!" And sometimes he won the argument, for 
it gave him so much joy to take me out, and tuck 
me into the car, and put his overcoat on outside 
of my own coat, and complain of the heat of his 
heavy uniform. 

It was soon after Christmas that we had the 
worst of our anxiety. Christmas itself was won- 
derful, although Arthur could only get home 
the evening before the holiday, and had to go 
back to camp in the morning. Like two children 
we exchanged our gifts the moment he came home, 
and he sat on the floor upon a new bedding roll 
and laughed with pleasure over the Hamilton wrist- 
watch that was certainly the best watch in the 
Division! Later he had my picture engraved on 
the dial of that watch, and it was his most prized 
possession. From laughter he changed suddenly 
to tears, and all the starved and hungry boyhood 
of him cried out, — "Oh Beth, nobody ever loved 
me before." 



Fortitude 97 

In the morning our trays each held a charming 

gift from Mrs. E , and the Boston terrier, 

"Jo," Arthur's special pet, came trotting in with 
"Merry Christmas for Captain Hamm" tied to 
his collar, and he jumped on the bed with it to 
Arthur's huge delight. We ate our breakfast 
before the open fire, Jo sharing Arthur's cocoa 
and dribbling ecstatically, while the poodle sat 
up and begged for mine with his head on one side, 
sneezing gently to remind me of his presence. 

The day after Christmas the 326th Infantry 
took its first turn at the Norcross rifle range, living 
in tents and exposed to the worst weather condi- 
tions of the winter. Arthur's throat was sore when 
he went out there, and I remember with how much 
relief I heard his voice over the telephone one 
evening, cheerful and hearty. 

"I have been anxious about you Arthur. Are 
you warm enough?" 

"So warm it's pitiful! Why? Is it cold in 
Atlanta?" 

"Terribly cold and a gale is blowing. Don't 
you find it so?" 

"Well you see Norcross is down in a hollow, and 
that must be the reason we don't feel the wind." 

I suspected him nevertheless, and was not sur- 
prised to learn that during the above conversation 



98 In White Armor 

the Colonel had been standing near him saying 

under his breath "D liar!" The result of 

exposure and consequent illness was that in 
January Arthur obtained three weeks' leave of 
absence, and came to New York for operations 
on his nose and throat. I find a letter written 
home at this time which expresses all we both felt 
about the winter's work and struggle. 

"Arthur would never get over a discharge for 
physical disability. It would never do. It would 
almost be better for his sake that he die in the 
service than that his life should be shadowed 
with a sense of failure. His spirit and endurance, 
the dynamic quality in him that makes him over- 
reach all physical limitations, will carry him over 
every obstacle, and I feel sure that he will come 
through alive. If he should not, he will have lived 
a glorious life, and that is more to be desired than 
a long one." For me Arthur would have asked 
for a transfer at any time, but we knew we could 
pull it through. He was a fighter and a leader 
of men. His power of service was of more account 
than our personal lives and happiness, and indeed 
we could not have been happy in anything less. 
The biggest, best, and bravest work in the army 
was the least that Arthur Hamm could do. ' ' Never 
for him the lowered banner, the lost endeavor!" 



Fortitude 99 

I joined Arthur in the hospital for the removal 
of my own tonsils, and we regarded this vacation 
as the happiest time of our lives. Arthur was 
away from military life, and put war worries 
aside for the time, and we were uninterruptedly 
together. We planned to have appendicitis in 
the spring, but spring brought unexpectedly sud- 
den parting, and so we were unable to execute 
this little plot. In one of his letters from France 
Arthur wrote : ' 'Weren't we lucky to have tonsils 
in the first place? They could cut off anything 
I've got for three weeks with my wife!" 

We returned to Atlanta on February first, the 
beginning of a Georgia spring. Early jasmine 
was coming into bloom, and soon the peach or- 
chards were to be in a blaze of glory. [Rumors 
and counter-rumors of departure kept us on the 
qui vive, and the schedule of work at camp per- 
formed the incredible feat of becoming stiffer. 
The special training schools in gas, grenades, 
bombing, and bayonet hummed like beehives, and 
there was more work on the range for the Infan- 
try regiments. I visited Norcross, and was in- 
tensely interested in the city of tents, which must 
have been quite like the arrangements at the 
British Training School at St. Valery. We had 
luncheon in the Colonel's tent, and then went out 



ioo In White Armor 

to watch the target shooting and the working out 
of field problems. German trenches were supposed 
to be about three hundred yards away, posi- 
tions to be taken were indicated, and camouflaged 
and moving targets shaped like men gave an 
air of reality to this mimic warfare. The lieuten- 
ant in charge was allowed two minutes to con- 
sider the problem set for his squad and at a given 
signal the attack was made. It happened that 
Arthur's company was shooting while I was there, 
and that their record of shots gone home on both 
the moving and stationary targets was such as to 
please their Captain greatly. He was mounted 
and as he followed the men across the wide fields 
or came galloping back to me, he sat his horse a 
very king of grace and beauty. 

Billikin and I kept well out of danger, and 
looked on with admiring eyes. Billy was a new 
acquisition, had come as a Valentine for Captain 
Hamm, an animated ball of cotton with a blue 
ribbon around his neck, and "M Company, 326th 
Infantry" upon his collar. The chauffeur next 
door, who was St. Valentine's assistant in this 
important matter, refused to commit himself as 
to his breed, and when pressed shook his head and 
said: "Well'm ah spects he am two kinds ob a 
dawg, but he mighty smaht puppy." His varieties 




BILLY AND BETH 



Fortitude 101 

were underestimated, but not his smartness. He 
had taken to the army like a duck to water, and 
there at the Norcross encampment he would not 
permit anyone in civilian garb to enter without 
making a charge upon his boots that was the 
epitome of frightfulness. 

I remained at the Range for Retreat that night, 
and was amused to see Billy line up with the 
Company and sing his own accompaniment to the 
Star Spangled Banner. At dusk I started back for 
Atlanta in a borrowed car. Gladys had brought 
me within a mile of the Range and there broken 
an axle. Looking back toward the group of tents, 
in one of which the Captain and first Lieutenant 
of Company M were cosily ensconced together, I 
found myself wishing that the "Fritzes" over 
there would show as much restraint about shoot- 
ing back as had those so easily subdued that 
afternoon. The scent of peach blossoms, and all 
the damp haze of a Georgia twilight made that 
pantomime of war fantastic and unreal. I drove 
on dreaming. And back on the Range it came 
near time for taps. Arthur too was dreaming. 
His boyhood days in Massachusetts came back to 
him, when he had been chief musician with his 
regiment of the National Guard. His thoughts 
swung thence by a long leap to France, and to the 



102 In White Armor 

trial by fire to come. Obeying some quick im- 
pulse he seized from the usual bugler his clear 
instrument, and poured his soul in music through 
the night. Mournful and tender, rising to a hint 
of triumph, and dying away at last to melancholy, 
came the call to rest. The regiment was startled, 
and men and officers asked each other: "Who 
blew taps to-night ? " They spoke of it for days to 
come. Was it a premonition? I never dared to 
ask. The incident remained a thing both beautiful 
and fearful in my heart. Six months later, almost 
to the day, the same notes sounded benediction 
for his rare, and exquisite young life. 



CHAPTER X 

PARLEZ-VOUS FRAN£AIS? 

"And this was called the tournament of Youth." 

To occupy my leisure hours, and to add my 
bit toward meeting the new problems created by a 
war so far from home, I taught several classes of 
French, both at a National Guard camp near 
Atlanta, and among the officers of the 326th 
Infantry. This last took me out to Camp Gordon 
at night. It never failed to impress me, as after 
the long ride, I caught my first glimpse of the 
soldier city. The lighted barrack windows, the 
envelope of haze, made what was crude by day a 
city of dreams, where thousands of young lives 
were dedicated to the realization of the greatest 
of all dreams, heroic and splendid. The pulse 
of patriotism beat high as we drove through dark, 
quiet streets, caught fleeting glimpses of young 
heads bent over home letters, or met a stray 
detachment of troops coming in from a night 
hike, their rythmic footfall all that broke the 
silence. Somewhere among all those thousands 

103 



104 In White Armor 

of boys my own stood waiting for me, a glad tired 
boy, who lifted me from the car at Brigade Head- 
quarters, and went with me to the little room lined 
with blackboards and warmed by a stove, where we 
struggled with the mysteries of French. Had I a 
favorite pupil, to whom I never put the hard 
questions? Arthur was once again "teacher's 
pet" I am afraid! 

The men often looked white and tired, but from 
the Colonel to the Second Lieutenants, they all 
worked valiantly to read simple French stories, 
and to acquire a working vocabulary of the lan- 
guage. I found no text-book that just suited me, 
so Arthur's company clerk typed out the lessons 
ahead, and we enquired our way about railway 
stations, ordered succulent meals in Paris restau- 
rants, and even attacked military problems un- 
daunted. The Colonel has told me that he was 
far more proficient in French there in that office 
than he is at present after six months in France, 
the truth being that our men did not need the 
language even as much as they anticipated. 
Arthur was hopeless from the start, and the extent 
of his knowledge consisted of two phrases, "La 
guerre c'est la diable" (most unchivalrous mis- 
take) and "Je t'aime, femme." In spite of the 
brusquerie of the latter phrase, I assured him it 




CAPTAIN ARTHUR ELLIS HAMM 



Parlez-vous Francais? 105 

would get him anywhere in France. On special 
occasions Arthur was capable of expanding this 
into "Je t'aime, ma chere petite femme," but 
that was a real effort. 

The men grouped about that table with knitted 
foreheads and anxious faces, so infinitely appeal- 
ing, so heroic in endeavor and in the will to con- 
quer, are all to return from the land of their exile, 
save only one. 

My class of privates was quite another and 
more rollicking affair. Luncheon with the officers, 
school-call on the bugle, and in filed twenty tanned 
young Southerners, apt and eager pupils, who took 
notes, wrote exercises, and made desperate efforts 
to speak, turning quite purple in the process. We 
played at shop, and I as a plump and voluble 
French Bourgeoise sold cigarettes and chocolate 
at exorbitant rates. The French r was their 
greatest puzzle. "Tell us again, Mrs. Hamm, 
how to say 'ah'?" was a frequent question. My 
efforts were rewarded when one dear boy said 
to me shyly, "Mrs. Hamm, ah want to say that 
we-all sholy do enjoy the hour." 

Best of all it was at the close of that hour to 
hear a raucous honk without, and to know that 
Arthur was waiting for me, his Saturday's work 
done, and a glorious twenty-four hours of com- 



106 In White Armor 

panionship before us. Before returning to Atlanta 
we would drive out beyond Fort McPherson, and 
visit the historic spots of Training days, leaving 
Gladys in the fields while we walked through 
trenches and lived over some of the incidents of 
that strenuous time. No tank could operate more 
successfully over rough ground than did Gladys 
on these occasions. Then after a look at the 
internment camp and a round-about country drive 
past picturesque cabins and peach trees all ablow, 
we would go home again through Atlanta, with a 
stop at Nunnally's and at some florist's on the 
way. Flowers and candy on Saturday night were 
as regular as the sun, and roses always decked my 
room. I cannot think of all that spring without 
the fragrance of roses in my heart. 

I remember how one evening returning from 
such a drive we were maneuvering through crowded 
streets, and Arthur cried: "Look! There is 

Lt. H in his Skeeter! Dare me to bump 

him?" and how the wrathful glare that the Lieu- 
tenant threw over his shoulder changed to a grin 
when the Captain's laughing face met his. A 
few minutes later, Gladys evidently bent on 
mischief that night, inspired her driver to say: 
"Oh Beth, there go those highway robbers, the 
Blank Tire Company!" — "Arthur, let's crumple 



Parlez-vous Francais? 107 

up their mudguard to pay for that last bad tire!" 
No sooner said than done, but we lingered not to 
see how anybody took that joke. 

One evening in the absence of Gladys, we 
borrowed the aforesaid Skeeter from Lieutenant 

H , and went for a joy ride. It was seldom 

that Arthur was really reckless when I was in the 
car, but sometimes like Mrs. Wiggs to poor Miss 
Hazy, I "sicked" him on. There were no backs 
to the seats, and I held on by both arms around 
Arthur's waist. 

"Watch her go!" he cried. "See me beat that 
Packard!" Up Ponce de Leon Avenue we raced, 
and sure enough we passed the heavier car. Con- 
tent with our triumph we stopped at the next 
wide turning, and waited laughing and waving our 
hats. The distanced car-load stood up too, and 
cheered and laughed as they flew by. 

Tingling with joy and speed and life, we turned 
the spot-light back toward Druid Hills, and drove 
less madly and with deep content upon our way 
to the firelit room which stood to us for all 
we hoped and dreamed of future life, — Warmth, 
Light, Happiness, and Home. 



CHAPTER XI 

REVIEWS AND DANCES 

" . . . This king is fair 
Beyond the race of Britons and of men." 

Those Saturdays and Sundays, as the spring 
wore on, were happy even in the shadow of parting. 
They were the time for relaxation and renewal of 
strength and courage. Arthur's thought for me 
kept him from any sign of dread, and he was 
outwardly all enthusiasm for the big adventure 
ahead, so much so that I asked him once: "Do 
you really want to go?" 

"Why should I want to go," he answered, 
1 ' except as a matter of the sternest duty ? I know 
what we are going into, and that is a lot more than 
most of these fellows do. I have no illusions as to 
the adventurous side of war — the so-called 'glory.' 
It is not glorious to kill, go in dirty clothing, see 
pain and death, and be separated from all that 
makes life worth the living. But you know that 
I am adaptable, and the discomforts mean nothing 
to me. I have had plenty of them before now, and 

1 08 



Reviews and Dances 109 

cared not a pin's worth for them. It is only the 
separation from you that takes my courage, and 
that will end, Dear, and we will have all of our lives 
to forget it in. Meantime it wouldn't look very 
well for me to go around camp with a long face, 
would it ? And at the last analysis, a man can do 
no less. Tell me the truth — would you have it 
otherwise? Would you have me stay at home in 
the depot Brigade, while the rest of them went 
across to fight?" 

We seldom touched upon the possibility of 
more than temporary separation, and when we 
did it was in the most practical fashion possible. 
Arthur never faltered from the faith in our 
future life together, either then or after he got to 
France. "I have implicit faith in the Unknown," 
he used to say. I could not share his confidence, 
nor could others who loved him. Why is it that 
we are prone to think the perfect thing evanescent ? 
Is it only that we notice it and dwell upon it when 
glorious young lives like Rupert Brooke's, Alan 
Seeger's and others who have held the secret of 
beauty and have seemed so needed in this world, 
have been sacrificed? Thousands of brave men, 
including the flower of our youth are coming home 
from Europe. We cannot truly say "Patroclus 
lies slain and Thersites comes back." Yet human 



no In White Armor 

philosophy throughout the ages has held that 
"those whom the gods love die young, " and that 
perfection cannot endure upon the earth. A young 
soldier friend who often spent a Sunday evening at 

the E 's wrote me after Arthur's death, "I 

was not surprised. I felt myself last winter in the 
presence of an almost unearthly happiness." I 
myself felt in the presence of something other- 
worldly before my husband. The supreme beauty 
of his soul and person, the wistful look in his eyes 
gave me a premonition of his death. On the other 
hand, Arthur's vitality and radiant youth seemed 
indestructible. Under the spell of his influence I 
was full of glorious hope. I can hear him now say- 
ing: "Those Boches haven't made the right size 
bullet to kill me with!" 

Arthur was off duty by noon on Saturday, 
although odds and ends of business usually kept 
him occupied until late in the afternoon. He 
would send O' Grady for me Saturday morning 
early in order that I might attend the weekly 
review at camp, a great spectacle familiar to most 
of us last year, never, we hope, to be repeated in the 
history of our country. The Division of thirty- 
five thousand men massed on a hillside on the 
far side of the reviewing field, regimental stan- 
dards flying, morning sunshine touching the high- 



Reviews and Dances m 

lights, and blue mists folding the hills behind, 
made a picture of gorgeous pageantry, which 
must have thrilled any heart. To one whose son 
or husband was the central figure of that army 
the sight was poignantly moving. While the 
troops went by the General, the men, "eyes 
right," and the officers at attention, I waited for 
Company M, and sighted the slender boyish 
figure of their leader long before he came abreast. 
He walked with back and shoulders straight, and 
head proudly lifted, with a lithe and easy swing, 
and my eyes would fill with tears to see him pass. 
One of the French officers standing near me would 
smile and say: "Well now, Mrs. Hamm can 
settle down and enjoy the Review." 

After the Division had passed, and the men 
broken ranks, and gone to their barracks for noon 
mess, O' Grady and I stopped at Regimental 
Headquarters for a glimpse of the Captain, and 
to pick up Billy, who always week-ended in Atlanta. 
Arthur came later, stopped for me first, and then 
attended to his accumulated errands in the city 
There were visits to be paid to the commercial 
stationery shop, to the printer, the hardware shop, 
and the leathersmith. He was meticulous about 
his leather goods. They had to be not only of 
the best material and sewing, but of his own 



ii2 In White Armor 

invention. His gun-case, for instance, and his 
cartridge belt were a design of his own, and to his 
mind much more serviceable than anything on 
the market. The matter of his personal equip- 
ment was of concern to us both, and took a great 
deal of time, thought, and money. We pored 
over Abercrombie and Fitch catalogs, ordered, 
returned, and ordered again, and when finally he 
went across, Arthur had the best of everything, 
compact, practicable, and durable. It cost in the 
neighborhood of one thousand dollars to fit out 
an officer for overseas. Serving the government 
was a costly privilege. 

At dusk, Gladys heaped high with purchases, 
we came back home to Druid Hills, and usually 
found a jovial group of officers there for dinner 
— French, English, and American. The foreign 
Missions called 35 Oakdale, "Atlanta Head- 
quarters," and were grateful for the privilege of 
spending Sunday under its hospitable roof instead 
of at the "Petit Trianon." Their barracks at the 
cantonment were labeled thus, to the confusion 
of the uninitiated soldier, who pronounced the 
words as many different ways as there were letters 
in them. What jolly evenings we would have! 
Everybody sang Over There, Ann Elizer, and the 
Marseillaise with impartiality, Major M , a 



Reviews and Dances 113 

British raiding officer who had lost count after his 
sixtieth German killed by hand, leaned heavily 
toward sentimental ditties like the Long, Long 
Trail and the Sunshine of your Smile. Arthur 

playing joint host with Mr. E would mix the 

cocktails, and nobody ever noticed that he took 
none himself. Or he would harangue us, leaning 
against the mantel, talking well and easily — in- 
deed he was never a silent member of any gather- 
ing! He had an extraordinary gift of English, a 
refreshing frankness, and a spontaneity that was 
altogether charming. He made a wonderful public 
speaker, and in all the work of that sort, that he 
did in the Y. M. C. A. at camp, on behalf of the 
Liberty Loan in Atlanta, for which he was chosen 
to represent the army, in talks to his company, or 
simply socially, he was completely at home. I 
used to marvel at it, trying to realize that there 
was a man who had never been to school, except 
in the world's school, between his fourteenth and 
twenty-fourth year. He was surely a "fairy- 
child," or changeling ! 
When Cinders was out, we all had supper on 

little tables before the open fire, and Mrs. E 

depended upon Arthur as chief Kitchen Police. 
I can see him now, his blouse off, the sleeves of his 
service shirt rolled up, making a salad, setting 



ii4 In White Armor 

tables, running in with the trays, while the rest 
of us stood around and said: "Oh let us help!" 
"Get out of my way, Woman!" he would say to 
me : "I am as busy as a one-armed paper-hanger. 
No it isn't allowed to kiss the butler. I won't have 
it. Run away and play." But if I disappeared 
from the room he would follow me upstairs in 
genuine alarm, calling: "Where is my wife? 
What did you run away for, little sweetheart? 
What are you thinking of? Tell me, please." 
I could not tell him that it was of France, but he 
always knew, and comforted me with his own 
sweet courage. He never dominated me, but he 
led me wholly, directed and explained and set the 
doors of freedom and of life wide open to my soul. 
I write of him and know that much of what I say 
will be mistaken for love's idealization, and that no 
denial of mine can set the matter straight! Yet 
those who were his friends can testify that he could 
not be idealized, — that he defied analysis, and 
could never be adequately expressed. 

One Sunday afternoon, a week or so before the 
regiment left Atlanta, he asked me to read aloud 
to him from the Idylls of the King, of which he 
was very fond. I chose "The Holy Grail," and 
he leaned his head against my knee and looked 
dreamily into the fire as I read. I lingered a little 




A WEEK-END GROUP AT 35 OAKLAND ROAD 



Reviews and Dances 115 

over the description of the sending of Sir Galahad 
upon his quest: 

"And she, the maiden, shore away 
Clean from her forehead all that wealth of hair 
Which made a silken mat-work for her feet ; 
And out of this she plaited broad and long 
A strong sword-belt, and wove with silver 
And crimson in the belt a strange device, — 
A crimson Grail within a silver beam; 
And saw the bright boy-knight, and bound it on 

him, 
Saying: 'My knight, my love, my knight of 

Heaven, 

thou my love, whose love is one with mine, 

1 maiden, round thee maiden, bind my belt. 
Go forth, for thou shalt see what I have seen, 
And break though all, till one will crown thee 

king 
Far in the spiritual city ' ; and as she spoke 
She sent the deathless passion in her eyes 
Thro' him, and made him hers, and laid her mind 
On him, and he believed in her belief.' ' 

I paused and ran my ringers through Arthur's 
hair, and he reached up and took my hand, and 
so on to the end of the poem we read together. 

We seldom wasted time by going to the Regi- 
mental dances or to the many social functions 
that made Atlanta gay through the season. Not 



u6 In White Armor 

only did it seem wiser for Arthur to take what 
sleep he could, but our time together was too short 
for such things. Since the three weeks in New 
York he had been much better and the responsi- 
bilities of his work came more easily to him. His 
company was above the average, and was marked 
and rated among the very best by the government 
inspector that paid the camp a visit. The Colonel 
accused him still of working too hard. "He will 
come in from a hike," he said to me, "and forget 
to eat or even to allow his men to do so, — there 
will still be so many things he wants to tell them. 
He is a great boy, Mrs. Hamm, with a great big 
generous heart. You have to tie his clothes on 
his back, literally." And I can recall some words 
of the General spoken with a slow and apprecia- 
tive smile just before the Division sailed. "They 
tell me your husband is a good soldier, and I am 
rather inclined to agree." 

Arthur's generosity was prodigal and universal. 
If anyone admired something that he possessed, 
no matter how greatly treasured, unless it was a 
gift of mine, the article changed hands at once, 
and Arthur had the grace of making the recipient 
feel that he had relieved the donor of an encum- 
brance. As for Gladys, that willing servitor was 
forever at the disposition of others. My husband 



Reviews and Dances 117 

was extravagant in gifts to me, and though I ought 
to have curbed him somewhat, I could not bear to 
do so. On his pay-day he dashed to town all 
pride and joy, and deposited his entire pay to my 
account, and I had difficulty in persuading him to 
keep any bank-account of his own. My birthday 
came within a week of the departure from Atlanta, 
and Arthur took me to the jeweler's with his 
pockets full of money saved for just that purpose. 
"Now," he said, "you must choose what you 
like best in all the shop. It won't be extravagant, 
will it, Dear? I believe in getting the best, don't 
you? You don't want to buy something that 
later on you will want to exchange. Choose 
something of permanent value that you can always 
wear." 

I knew all too well that in the back of his mind 
lay the fear that this might be the last birthday 
we would spend together, and so I agreed with his 
plausible theory, and selected a diamond pendant, 
that he clasped around my neck with fingers that 
trembled a little, and turned me about for the 
admiration of the salesman. It was a wonder he 
did not ask him, as he did all of his friends and 
even acquaintances: "Isn't my wife the most 
beautiful girl in the world?" I was perfectly 
hardened to that. I chose the diamonds because 



n8 In White Armor 

they were the most fitting jewel for Arthur, clear 
and pure and flashing, and I wear them "always" 
as he told me to. 

He was forever begging me to purchase more 
clothes, and himself bought the silk stockings that 
I never would have indulged in, and sent to a New 
York shop for my boots, and haled me into Atlanta 
stores, and to the glove counters with an air of 
having executed a clever stratagem. When Billy 
ate my slippers new ones appeared as if by magic. 
A rain-coat, a cosy rose-colored negligee, known as 
"Beth's pink coatee" he got upon his own initia- 
tive, and so many other ways of thoughtfulness 
he had that I could never tell the half. It was 
just the same in France. In the midst of the most 
terrible bombardments he begged me to have 
"plenty of silk stockings, and nice soft clothes, such 
as the most wonderful girl in the world should 
and must have!" I pity the wife whose husband 
does not "notice" clothes! Of course I dressed to 
please Arthur, and he never failed to see and 
admire. He had special tastes and preferences 
too, and there was one little hat that was coldly 
received, and was relegated to well-deserved 
oblivion. "White and soft" things were the 
elect, and he was able to wield a few chosen terms, 
such as "cr£pe de chine" and "Georgette cr£pe" 



Reviews and Dances 119 

with superhuman masculine intelligence. His fin- 
gers were sensitive to textures, and loved the feel 
of velvet or soft silks. 

On the few occasions when we did accept invita- 
tions to dinner dances, it was a pleasure to wear 
my prettiest dress, his flowers at my belt, and go 
to the party with the handsomest man there. 
His "married uniform" was saved for these special 
occasions, and it was as much a joy to watch him 
dance with others as to dance with him myself. 
I have seen other women watch him, the most 
graceful and distinguished dancer in the ball-room, 
and have rejoiced in the things they said of him 
to me. Those army dances were wonderfully gay 
and picturesque, the uniforms of foreign officers, 
the well-fitting khaki of our own, the bright colors 
of the women, and the flags of the regiment 
held by the "color guard" at one end of the hall, 
making a scene of brilliancy more familiar in 
European cities than in America. 

"And bright, " I used to quote, "the lamps shone 

o'er 
The faces of fair women, and brave men." 

Arthur seemed to me at such times like Peter 
Pan, all joy and youth and sweetness and light, 
and I believed in fairies only to look at him. But 



120 In White Armor 

when, dancing with him, he looked down in my 
eyes with tender gravity, I knew him for a prophet 
and a seer, who saw life clearly, honestly, and 
hopefully, as part of the great plan and principle 
of Love. 



CHAPTER XII 

AVE ATQUE VALE 

" Come now, let us meet 
To-morrow morn once more in one full field 
Of gracious pastime." 

My "Peter Pan" was full to the brim with the 
spirit of play. He came home often so exuberant 
that nothing would satisfy him but to pick me 
up bodily and run up the broad stairs with me, 

calling over his shoulder, "Greetings, Mr. E ! 

How are you, sir? Just wait until I get rid of this 
and we'll have a chat and a smoke." Our kind 
friends regarded us both with indulgence, and 
adored Arthur. When he turned a back somer- 
sault over the footboard of the bed and took down 

a chandelier in the process, Mrs. E merely 

asked: "What was it this time?" Arthur could 
romp as hard as Billy, and the two of them wrestled 
for the possession of rugs and boots and other 
"portable property" until I told them to behave. 
' ' I haven't got to behave ! ' ' Arthur would say, ' ' I 
haven't got to!" and if I let him off he would 
plead, "Oh, say I've 'got to,' little sweetheart!" 

121 



122 In White Armor 

In all our wonderful year I have never known 
him to show one instant's irritation. No matter 
how tired and nervous he was, or how discouraging 
his day at camp, he was happy the minute he 
reached his home. If I had performed some little 
service for him in Atlanta, he could not get over 
the marvel of it; and if I had left undone or for- 
gotten some vital errand for cleaned uniform or 
needed laundry, he said : ' ' But why look worried, 
Dear? I didn't want it. What difference does 
anything like that make to me?" It is rare and 
lovely to remember that there was never one word 
or moment between us that we could wish different. 
He told me once that if he ever saw a hurt look 
in my face he would die. He should have lived 
forever ! His tenderness was showered upon every 
living thing that needed care and protection, a 
child or woman or an old person especially, or 
even a dog like his little mascot. When Billy 
was very tiny he slept in a basket in our room, 
and if he whimpered in the night, Arthur would 
flash his light on him, and laugh to see his shoe- 
button eyes roll up (they were more like shoe- 
buttons than regular shoe-buttons !) and whisper, 
"Look at that, Beth, could you be mean to a thing 
like that?" 

For my own babyhood he had the same senti- 



Ave Atque Vale 123 

ment as if he had, as he claimed, always known 
me, and he carried to France various relics of 
my fourth year, — pictures, curls, and spoons. He 
was all boy and all man, changing from one mood 
to another more suddenly than the wind veers, 
infinitely various and enchanting. "Ah, " he 
sighed, "if the men of my company or even my 
friends at camp could see me at home, they would 
think I had suddenly gone crazy. And often 
on the drill field I smile to myself, and think if 
my wife could hear me, she would disown me. 
She would say: 'Who is that man? He is too 
mean to be my husband.' " His use of the third 
person both for me and for himself was almost 
universal. It was: "My Beth," "My Wife," 
rather than "You"; and he referred to himself as 
"Boy" or "Poor Boy." "Come on, let's pity 
this poor boy," was a favorite game. All this 
relaxation into boyishness was his salvation after 
a grind of work, and it seemed also to make up 
a little for his lost and unhappy childhood. But 
in a second he would grow up again to strong and 
thoughtful manhood, and from being "my little 
boy" was the husband and protector who would 
die in my defense. 

I fell once awkwardly at the foot of the stairs, 
and Arthur reached me before I had time to pick 



124 In White Armor 

myself up. "Oh, Beth," he cried, "I would 
rather put my head into a cannon's mouth than 
have you hurt!" And he meant it literally. For 
the scratched knuckle, which was the only result- 
ing casualty, he had to rush off in Gladys to the 
drug-store and buy some marvelous liniment and 
bind it up as carefully as if my life hung in the 
balance. His hands were more sensitive and 
gentle than any woman's. 

I might multiply instances without end of his 
thoughtfulness, tenderness, and poetic expression. 
One evening, long after dark, I was with Mrs. 

E in her car down town in Atlanta. Suddenly 

Gladys drew alongside, passed us, and Arthur 
and I recognized each other at the same instant. 
He was at my side in a flash, lyrical with joy. 
"Oh !" he cried, " this is just like daylight breaking 
through!" And speaking of his possible death he 
said once to me : ' ' How could I die without your 
face to welcome me at heaven's gate? My heaven 
is here with you." 

How much more the prospect of his sacrifice 
meant to him than to many men! His life had 
been a fight for all that he held worth while, 
education, self -improvement, and finally, Love. 
He yearned for a home, and all that the word 
stands for lay at last within his grasp. He had 



Ave Atque Vale 125 

barely attained his goal, and yet he bravely and 
beautifully faced the possibility of losing all that 
had been so hardly won. He might well have 
hesitated to take the risk. His start in life was 
late, and his career, long sought, still beckoned 
to him as the ultimate real object of his life. Yet 
he never faltered in faith and courage, and his 
only deep concern was for myself. Love meant 
so much to him — so much that he could only dare 
to hold it as a trust. Life itself he could only 
hold on the highest terms, and happiness like his 
was not for selfish uses. 

We spoke of these things as the days brought 
us near to the dreaded parting. The 82d Division 
was scheduled to leave Camp Gordon for Camp 
Upton during the week of April 8th. Strange as 
it may seem, the finality of those orders came as an 
unexpected blow. I realize that we had, in spite 
of assuming the contrary, believed some miracle 
would spare us. It had seemed quite probable 
that the National Army might not go across, at 
least until into the summer, and we had a curious 
feeling of security. The arduous training was a 
pastime, a preparation for some improbable time 
of need, for a crucial test that might never come. 
But the German advance in March had changed 
all that. The call to America had come, and the 



126 In White Armor 

vast pageantry of war upon which we had looked 
so long was to become grim and terrible earnest. 

Arthur kept me in touch with developments 
frankly and fully, and we tried to accept the in- 
evitable with firmness and resolution. But we 
seized every opportunity to be together, and he 
clung to me as I to him, although he maintained 
always a cheerful and optimistic outlook. It was 
to be "only for a time." We planned in a busi- 
nesslike way about his affairs in this country, and 
he took out the War Risk Insurance contrary to 
my urging, and it was finally agreed that if I ever 
received the income, I should give its equivalent 
to found scholarships at my college and at his. 
My wish was to make the gift to Gainesville only, 
but his eyes filled with tears and he said: "If 
to Florida, then please to Smith as well, for my 
college cannot possibly be as dear to you as yours 
is to me. I have only to shut my eyes to see my 
little girl running about those campus paths, books 
under her arm, her curls tucked up for the first time. 
But mind you, Dear, neither Smith nor Gaines- 
ville will have that money till our ship comes in 
and we can have the fun of watching it work out 
together." 

Many words that Arthur spoke to me at this 
time come back now with more than their original 



Ave Atque Vale 127 

force. Speaking always as if of temporary separa- 
tion he would say, " Don't withdraw within 
yourself, dear wife. Try to be happy-hearted, 
for if you should not be, my whole life would 
have been in vain. You will need to break down, 
and when you have to, just cry like the mischief, 
but then get up again and face the world. Re- 
member that you have rounded out and completed 
my life and fulfilled its every dream, and that 
only the shell of me will be in France. To leave 
you unprotected for a time seems more than I can 
stand, but we will bear it better than people who 
do not love each other quite so much. Make your 
criterion for every decision what you most want 
in your heart to do, for it will surely be the right 
thing, and when once a decision is made, never 
regret it, — stick to it like a soldier." So he who 
so needed comfort for himself, tried to comfort and 
sustain me, and it seems to me now that for every 
situation that could arise in my life, I have some 
dear word of his to go by. 

Whenever I went to camp I received testimony 
of the loyalty and devotion of the men of Company 
M for the Captain who had worked for them 
through more than six months. One said: "Mrs. 
Hamm, my mother says I think more of the 
Captain than I do of God ! I only know I would 



128 In White Armor 

follow him to France quicker than any other ten 
men." Another, "I am big and fat, and the Cap- 
tain is slim. I wish I could stand in front of him 
right through the war!" — "I would go through 
hell for him." — " Don't worry about him; we 
would die for him." — "If there is any man in the 
Company that isn't loyal to the death, I'd kill 
him." 

The letters from the families of the soldiers were 
amusing and pathetic. It seemed to me when I 
read them that these mothers, sisters, and wives 
looked upon the Captain as a white-haired Deity, 
all-powerful, who could only be propitiated by 
burnt offerings of large and strong cigars, but 
whose goodness and omnipotence were to be relied 
on. Arthur gave as many passes as the law 
allowed, and more: "Just as many as I can get 
away with," he said, "for I figure that a lot of 
these men will never come home. The regulation 
says no more than six are to be absent from the 
Company at once, but I have double that number 
off. The Colonel only laughs when I put in a 
request for a pass and asks me if I have more than 

the limit on leave. If General B finds out, 

they can't do anything more than shoot me, can 
they?" 

Arthur "got away" with various things, simply 



Ave Atque Vale 129 

because he did not care for consequences, and 
carried his point with delightful good humor. 
He was mischievously pleased to wear all through 
the year a light-colored sombrero, which was con- 
trary to the rule. It was a particularly expen- 
sive and good-looking hat, and he devoted to it 
almost as much care as to his leggings, and those 
I claimed as a ground for divorce, so much time 
and loving attention did he lavish on them. ' ' My 
hat," he would say, " makes General B un- 
happy. He wishes he had one like it." The 
Brigadier-General admonished him once on the 
subject, and Arthur replied blandly: "Well, 
you know General, these cheap issued hats fade 
out almost white in the sun." The General 
grinned and the hat remained an easy means of 
identifying my husband in the distance. 

On April 5th, the 326th Infantry came to 
Atlanta for its farewell. They hiked in from 
camp and pitched pup tents in Piedmont Park, the 
open field of which was beautifully adapted for the 

purpose. Mrs. E and I went out part way to 

meet the troops and called our greetings to the 
hot and dusty marchers as they passed. Billikin 
was perched on the top of the "monkey wagon," 
lazy little rascal. Fourteen miles, he said, was 
quite too much for such a little dog, and besides 



130 In White Armor 

he was keeping his hat and army coat clean for 
to-morrow's review in Atlanta. It was a regular 
doughboy hat, and if only it would stay on and 
not dangle so annoyingly by the elastic under his 

chin he would be very proud. ' ' Little d hat, ■ ' 

I am sorry to say he called it. Army life is de- 
moralizing! All this was expressed in staccato 
barks, perfectly understandable by a friend of 
Billy's. 

At Piedmont Park the scene was busy and 
interesting. The tents, pitched in straight rows 
so that they covered all of the ground space of 
the field, made the regiment appear of imposing 
size, and the men went through drills and forma- 
tions for the entertainment of the thousands of 
spectators from the city. We watched the pre- 
paration of savory luncheons in the cook tents, 
and I rushed off to supplement the mess with 
sandwiches and chocolate for my Captain. In 
the late afternoon we beheld the ceremony for 
which the regiment had come, the presentation 
of its colors. The flags had been purchased by 
subscription by the friends of officers, and con- 
sisted of beautiful silk banners, the regimental 
flag and the Stars and Stripes brilliant and shim- 
mering in the rays of the setting sun. They were 
received by a Color Guard for Colonel M , 



Ave Atque Vale 131 

who spoke in response to a speech of presentation, 
while three thousand fighting men stood in the 
background, a splendid and impressive array. 
"Colors" were sounded by the buglers and the 
flag on the great pole in the center of the field 
came down, every man at attention, and every 
woman moved and thrilled to tears. The flags 
were then carried past in Review, and once more 
I watched for Company M and saw their Captain 
"in silver-shining armor, starry clear." A dance 
that night and a Review through the city of 
Atlanta the next morning completed the program 
of farewell, which all who witnessed must re- 
member as historic. Of the men gathered on the 
field that day, there were five hundred left in 
action after the battle of the Argonne. 

Before Arthur left the camp to go home with 
me for dinner, he and I were standing on the top 
of the embankment that overlooks the park. 
He remembered some last instruction to be given 
and said to me: "I am going to try, on the 
chance, to signal Sergeant Price. It is ten to 
one he has his eye on me." He signalled once, 
just the name "Price," and we made out the 
sergeant running towards us, smiling and waving 
his hand. "Isn't that good, now?" cried Arthur. 
"Price is a jewel; I could signal him from the moon 



132 In White Armor 

and he would see me and come!" I like to think 
that Sergeant Price, who was killed in the Argonne 
Forest, brave soldier and loyal subordinate, went 
joyously at last to meet his Captain's signal from 
beyond the stars. 

My husband expected his Company to "pull 
out" on the following Friday, and he secured a 
drawing-room to New York for me upon that 
day. It was the first time we had been separated 
beyond reach of a telephone since we had been 
married, and it seemed to both of us the beginning 
of the end. He asked for a day's leave to see me 
off, and when I entered the drawing-room it was 
heaped with flowers, candy, pastries, salted nuts, 
and books and magazines. Arthur looked about 
him with a puzzled, worried air before he said 
good-by. "I wonder if I have forgotten any- 
thing," he said. From the obsequious attention 
I received during the journey north, I judged 
that he had not. Have I said before what fun 
it was to travel anywhere with Arthur? When he 
walked into a hotel or shop or any place of business 
his lordly way brought such a scurry! And upon 
the trip away from him that April day I still felt 
all his thoughtful care around me and the fragrance 
of his roses bore me company. 



CHAPTER XIII 
"over there" 

"Go forth and break thro' all till one shall crown thee King, 
Far in a Spiritual city." 

The regiment sailed from New York on the 
morning of April 28th, after eleven days at Camp 
Upton. Except for a few details, mainly about 
the Flirey raid, Arthur's own letters are all that 
throw light on the obscurity that descended like a 
veil between me and his daily life and military 
preoccupations. The censorship was hard for 
him, who was accustomed to talk to me of every 
detail of his work. But those letters, extracts 
from a few of which are appended, breathed a 
spirit of high courage, and went far to bridge 
the space that parted us. He wrote at least a 
few lines every day, cabled once a week, and sent 
great boxes of roses to me from time to time. At 
the time of his death his pocket was full of cen- 
sored cablegrams dated ahead to be despatched 
to me. His flowers miraculously brought him 
near, and made me believe more than ever in his 

133 



134 In White Armor 

omnipotence. From Nancy or Toul Arthur 
mailed me dainty lace, embroideries, and "nice 
soft hankies," and whenever he saw a chance to 
get anything to me by an officer returning to the 
States, I received beautiful evidence of his tender 
thoughtfulness. 

The unit crossed upon the Mauritania, dis- 
embarked at Liverpool, and were at once trans- 
ferred across the channel to Havre. The trip 
across had been uneventful until they reached the 
Irish Sea, where they were treated to the sensa- 
tion of being torpedoed. The shell only grazed 
their keel, however, and the submarine escaped. 
"One moment we were sitting in the smoking- 
room chatting calmly," was the way one officer 
described the incident, "and the next I am per- 
fectly positive our heads hit the ceiling!" 

From Havre the officers went to the British 
Training School at St. Valery, making frequent 
trips to the front line. Arthur rejoined his com- 
pany at Ault on the Norman coast, and fell ill 
with the grip, only getting out of bed in time 
to take the long and tedious journey to the Toul 
Sector, which was to be the scene of all his life 
at the front. The period of overseas training 
was completed by June 25th, and the 29th, his 
birthday, saw him in the trenches, good humored 



"Over There " 135 

and plucky, the first difficult moment of " action " 
met and safely by — his faith in the Unknown 
a firm support for courage. Nevertheless his 
battle with fatigue went on, and he was at high 
pressure during the entire summer, until he was 
attached for a few brief weeks to the Staff. He 
was also the most homesick boy in Europe. He 
assured me that he minded nothing but our 
separation, and that was true to a great extent, 
but the terrible conditions of life in the trenches 
accentuated all that loneliness to the point of 
torture. His one hope and desire was for the day 
when he might ease his heart to me. "The war 
will soon be over, " he wrote again and again, "and 
with your strength about me, I can bear to speak 
of the pain that has been." And when he had said 
so much he begged me not to think him weak ! 

His fellow officers tell me that he was gay and 
cheerful, buoyant and smiling under the worst of 
circumstances, with courage to spare always for 
those who were down-hearted. The same spirit 
shone in his letters home, which never mentioned 
danger or privation, never held a hint of heroics, 
and made light of every trial save his loneliness. 
Selfishly, I wanted to hear of that ! 

He was fearless to the point of recklessness. 
The Colonel tells me that before a night of danger- 



136 In White Armor 

ous duty he would announce gayly : ' ' Well, here's 
where I lay my bones in Hunland!" — "Oh I don't 
think so," the Colonel would reply, "not to-night, 
Son. You may to-morrow, to be sure, but I think 
you will live till morning." It was a running joke 
between the two. 

Arthur's meteoric career in Lorraine more than 
fulfilled the brilliant promise of Camp Gordon 
days. His was the glorious distinction of first 
carrying the American terror "over the top" 
with National Army troops. He is known in the 
history of the Division, if not of the National 
Army, as the leader of the Flirey raid. 

Captain Hamm's company and one other were 
chosen for this action, and trained for several 
weeks in preparation for it. The attack was 
made under French direction, and a well-known 
General of France came down to watch the ' ' dress 
rehearsal," and to talk to the officers in command. 
German trenches, similar to those of the Flirey 
front were marked out near Cholloy, and mock 
warfare was staged on a grand scale. When the 
time came for the actual attack every man knew 
his place and his part and duty. The French 
government took moving pictures of the training. 

At three in the morning of August 4th, after 
preparation by artillery and a box barrage, Arthur 



"Over There " 137 

went over the top ahead of his men, shoulder to 
shoulder with his Senior Lieutenant, and M 
Company followed him into a hail of concentrated 
artillery and machine-gun fire. He held a flash- 
light in one hand, and begged me to forgive him 
because he had "forgotten" to take cover. "A 
bad business, Beth," was the only comment that 
he ever made upon his personal risk, "but all over 
now." 

An officer of the company has told me the story 
in a quiet way — a soldier's way, which carries deep 
conviction with it. "The Captain was a man," 
he said, "who absolutely knew no fear. He led 
the men and they followed him. The men of 
Company M killed the only Germans who were 
killed except by our artillery. We accounted 
altogether for between two and three hundred, 
but it is hard to say how many of these fell in 
hand to hand fighting — perhaps forty or fifty. 
The Captain was in the thick of the entire action. 
Yes, he killed a German officer, and it was some 
fight too. We took three machine guns in action, 
though the other company claimed one. Our 
man grew tired of its weight on the way back, and 
handed it to the next chap, who happened to be of 
X Company. We did not care. We penetrated 
to our objective, six hundred yards beyond the 



138 In White Armor 

German front line, and once when I saw Captain 
Hamm fighting in the very front, toward the 
close of the action when things were pretty hot, 
I took the time to remonstrate with him, but 
he only laughed. We took important docu- 
ments, and were able to identify the German unit 
opposite." 

On schedule time each squad of Company M 
was marshaled and started back for the American 
lines, and Arthur and this same Lieutenant stood 
finally alone in a front line German trench. " Be- 
fore I leave," said Arthur, "I am going to take 
one more look around for American wounded." 
The search showed that every man was safely on 
the way, "and then we discovered," continued 
the Lieutenant, "that we were both standing there 
with an unused grenade in our hands. 'What 
are you going to do with that?' I asked. 'Oh 
well, ' he said, 'lets take a pot shot at that machine 
gun over to the left.' We threw the grenades, and 
ran to overtake the company. I brought my squad 
back through Noveant." 

Not a man was killed from Company M, and 
not one wounded mortally. "Truly marvelous," 
Arthur wrote, but due, others have assured me to 
his military competency. One squad of the other 
company remained too long within the German 



"Over There " 139 

lines, became jammed in an American trench, 
and was overtaken by two shells, which killed 
more than twenty men. An officer of this com- 
pany wrote me, speaking of Arthur, "I had the 
honor of going over the top with him on that raid 
of August 4th. He so directed and organized 
his attack that he lost not a single man. My 
company was not so fortunate." 

I could not begin to quote from all the letters 
that, since his death, have referred in highest 
terms to Captain Hamm's work on this raid. All 
speak of him as an officer of wonderful courage, a 
fearless and dashing leader, and of his popularity 
with both officers and men. August 4th was 
called "a memorable day for the Division, and 
especially for Company M." — "Captain Hamm 
was a natural born leader," writes one Major, 
"he had an indomitable spirit, truly American, 
and his splendid work on that memorable day, 
August 4, 191 8, is something we can never forget." 
His Lieutenant-Colonel who was promoted and 
returned to the States says : "I saw your husband 
on the fourth of this month, and he was the proud- 
est piece of manhood you ever imagined. He had 
just returned from a little surprise party we gave 
Fritz, and if you could have seen him you would 
have beheld a most rapturously delighted and a 



140 In White Armor 

most thoroughly berumpled gentleman, wearing a 
Boche helmet and all the trophies he could find 
space for on his person. He charged me to deliver 
the best of the trophies to you, and I shall hope 
for the opportunity to tell you all the things I 
cannot write." 

It has struck me that everyone without excep- 
tion who writes of Arthur calls him "gentleman" 
— a word so nearly obsolete in common speech 
that it stands out in relief in all these tributes. 
"He was a very brave and gallant gentleman," 
writes another Major, "and we all loved him." 
And one officer underlines the words, "he was at 
all times a Gentleman." 

Captain Hamm was thanked by letter and in 

person by General B for his achievement. 

He was cited for gallantry in action and recom- 
mended for the war cross. But to him the greatest 
satisfaction was that he had realized that boast 
for Company M, and given Fritz all that he had 
promised in those Camp Gordon days. He was 
wounded in the hand, but this only afforded him 
boyish pleasure, and he lost no time in wearing 
proudly his badge of honor, the wound stripe. 

On August 25th, after his next turn in the 
trenches, Captain Hamm, well known since the 
raid, was requested for Liaison Officer on the Army 



"Over There " 141 

Corps Staff. It was a signal honor, and a recogni- 
tion of his soldierly qualities that gave as much 
pleasure to his company as to himself. They 
were sorry to lose him, but rejoiced over his good 
fortune, and considered it a compliment to the en- 
tire company. He departed in grandeur for Corps 
Headquarters in the General's limousine, thinking 
that he might never command troops again. 

How short a time of change and rest my hus- 
band had, how in spite of his success in this new 
work he was ordered back, "needed" for the St. 
Mihiel campaign, and what he felt about it all 
will appear in the letters that follow. He died 
three days after he returned to his command, the 
first of his company to pay the supreme price 
for Liberty. I am told authoritatively that his 
promotion was assured, and a little while would 
have seen him safely beyond the reach of danger. 
But all things seem to have combined to bring 
him to his fatal moment. 

No man or soldier could have wished for a more 
gallant end to a more perfect life. We mourn 
his cup of happiness dashed down, his yearning 
hope denied, but we try to feel that nothing less 
than sacrificial death could have made his life 
complete, and that it set the final crown and seal 
upon a noble destiny. 



142 In White Armor 

St. Valery, France, 

May 7, 1918. 

My dear wonderful Wife: 

It seems so strange to be writing instead of 
jumping into Gladys and heading for life and love 
at the rate of some fifty miles an hour! Letters 
are such an unsatisfactory means of communion 
between husband and wife. Then as you know, 
war, and all matters pertaining to our military 
life cannot be mentioned in letters, and inasmuch 
as I censor my own mail, I shall have to forego 
the pleasure of telling you what a fine time I am 
having in this country. Do you realize how diffi- 
cult it is to write in such a guarded manner to 
you? And when you consider that my whole day 
is taken up with military affairs, and how united 
we were heretofore in our work, you can see it is 
pretty hard. 

This country is wonderful, all green and pretty, — 
a lovely springtime, if only we could be together. 
Ah but that will come, and when it does, we will 
visit all these places hand-in-hand. If I arrive 
within range of the Statue of Liberty again, I 
shall never make a trip without the most beautiful 
and wonderful girl in the world! Where is she 
now, I wonder? Perhaps in New York, wondering 
if it is not possible to send Boy a section of Broad- 



"Over There " 143 

way, the Subway, or at least another life-saving 
suit. I have it with me, the dear old thing, — 
cannot seem to lose it. I thought I had once, but 
it rapidly caught up with me again, and I am 
hoping to find it practicable for use in the field. 

Dear Beth, I seem to be writing like a "crazy 
boy" to-night, but there is such distracting noise 
that I can't help it. In the evening and early 
morning I get away from everyone, and look up 
at the sky and stars, because it is then that souls 
seem freest to rove, and I am sure that ours meet 
at that time. I am so happy, Dear. Our religion 
is such a comfort! Just a broad belief in some 
power that rules the universe, and a firm belief 
in each other! Ah Beth, to see you for five 
minutes I would storm the gates of Hell. The 
loneliest boy in the world is writing this letter, and 
I cannot help thinking all the time how cruel it 
was that war had to come at just this time, and 
cause us so much sorrow and anxiety. 

History after the war is over will tell wonderful 
tales of our troops, poor fellows, — little of the 
glorious side of war do they see, yet they fight to 
the death. A British officer (nice chap too, only 
he gets on my nerves by saying that he is "jolly 
well fed up on the war, what?") told me that the 
man who got wounded and sent home in the first 



144 In White Armor 

scrap was the lucky fellow. I am lucky, Dear, 
and always have been, but my good luck this time 
won't even permit me to be wounded. I shall 
come through without a scratch and will have 
nothing but trying memories to show for it all 
when next I put on civilians. 

The wonderful times together which are right- 
fully ours shall and must come true, and the 
present distance between us is only temporary. 
Did we realize what separation meant? No, yet 
now the whole curse of it and of war has been 
forced upon us. Sherman was a very mild spoken 
gentleman. 

It is ten o'clock here, five in New York, and 
we are writing and thinking of each other. You 
are always closest at this time, and it makes me 
oh so happy. Only don't worry and fret about 
Boy ! He is so comfortable and so safe it's pitiful, 
and he hopes for a speedy return to his dear beauti- 
ful home. 

Goodnight, dear little girl. I love you with all 
the heart of a soldier. 

In the Field, 
May 15th. 

My dear Beth, my Wife: 

I have not been able to write every day lately 
because I have been ill with the grip, not badly 



"Over There " 145 

and soon "Little Boy Blue" will be on the go 
again. Don't worry, little sweetheart. I would 
not even mention it but for our compact to tell all 
ills, however small. I am in a very nice round 
tent, like those you saw at Norcross, and I am 
all by myself except for my Beth. Her picture 
watches over me and cares for me, and we have 
great chats — all love and happiness. 

The tent is located on a little plateau, just 
large enough for it, and about a mile from the 
sea — a truly beautiful spot. My tripod wash- 
stand, my precious rubber tub (you may be sure 
it is priceless, and that I use it freely) , buckets and 
basin, and little stand, a table for your picture, and 
a desk — crude perhaps, but comfortable — my cot, 
sleeping bag, and nice gray blankets, and little 
girl's steamer rug, a cross-bar on the tent-pole to 
support a clothes rack, pistol, glasses, and small 
necessities of life, quite fill the tent. What an 
inventory! And at that I did not mention the 
bathing-suit right at the head of my cot ! 

I just made some chocolate and used your baby 
spoon to mix it. Dear little baby Bethlee! Most 
of the Whitman's chocolate is used, but so many 
things keep coming from Beth. All the magazines 
and joke papers are here, and I have been lying in 
bed reading and enjoying them to the limit. Best 



146 In White Armor 

of all with them came a letter. I spend all my 
time these days looking at your letters and pictures. 
I always have with me several in my money belt, 
the one in my identification locket, and the dear 
one on the dial of my watch. They shall go with 
me always in trench or dugout or "over the top." 
Your big picture wants to talk to me, but doesn't 
seem to know where to begin. Just took another 
spoonful of chocolate, same little spoon my little 
girl used to use. I loved her then — oh many, 
many years ago. Beth just spoke right up, looked 
across from her frame and said : "Stingy! Why 
don't you give me some chocolate?" Poor neg- 
lected Girl! I'll bump my head on the floor of 
my tent for penance, or maybe hold my breath. 
Oh no that would never do, for Beth might then 
hold hers, and frighten me to death. 

Colonel M came in to see me this afternoon. 

He is a dear. I am really all well now. Just 
ached in my back, my head, my legs, and my arms, 
but outside of that I was all right ! 

Ah Beth, I have been thinking, — soon I shall 
have the chance to fire shots for freedom's cause. 
In all I do you are to be my inspiration. You 
come to me when all other love seems banished from 
the world. Is it possible that we have been trans- 
ferred from our earth to Mars? Destruction is 



F 




•-i 




AN IDEAL AMERICAN SOLDIER 



"Over There" 147 

rife — primitive man reigns. What a world, 
what a life ! Where is the God to whom so many- 
pray? What does He think of it all? What can 
He think of this mad world, this mad race which 
has forced us to madness ? Poor mankind, made 
wretched by their own folly and selfish greed ! 

Somewhere in France, 
May 23d. 

Dear Little Fat Puff-Puff Wife: 

Maybe you and Billikin will be hurrying and 
puffing after poor boy soon. Poor little Billikin, 
too bad he can't bite Germans. He would do 
very well on a diet of Hun-meat. Lucky little 
doggie for he has Beth to play with. 

I am feeling rather cross to-day, and sorry for 
this poor little lonely girl and boy. May the curse 
of everyone rest upon the head of the Hun ! I 
pity anyone of his tribe that happens across my 
path to-day. They are the cause of all our loneli- 
ness and separation. I hate 'em ! 

Your picture is smiling at my outburst — the 
one you first sent me while I was at the University. 
What a wonderful day that was! It turned my 
bare room into a palace, and it was then more 
dear than a king's ransom. Now it turns my 
billet into something as near home as I shall know 
until I actually see and touch my Beth. 



148 In White Armor 

My orderly just came in and interrupted me 
with a message. He is Dunham, who sometimes 
drove the car for you in Atlanta, and he is a fine 
boy, and takes great care of me and my clothes. 
He is faithful, a good soldier, and will make a 
fighter. He is, however, some expense to me, for 
he will bring me extra sweets and delicacies, and 
the cost of everything is terrible. This time he 
brought me a letter from my wife. Your letters 
are an inspiration. Sometimes I feel a little blue 
and discouraged, but your letters always make me 
take hold of things and go to work with a new 
determination. 

We are working hard, and it is all very in- 
teresting, — wish I could tell you all about it. 
Sometimes we see something of a show, but mostly 
we are occupied with Archie. Now Archie is the 
nickname we give the anti-airplane gun. Poor 
Archie, I wish he would cease his yelling for a 
time. Not that I care a particular damn, but it 
seems such a waste of good money. The ammuni- 
tion for him must be especially cheap, or else 
there is graft in it somewhere. He fires and 
never hits, but I assure you he does his best. He 
has my sympathy. No harder working chap is in 
the army, but his successes are so few. He means 
well though! One of them lately lost his nasal 



" Over There " H9 

organ, and I now have the nose of a three-incher 
for a paper-weight. Luck to him (he is yelling 
this minute) but I fear he is doomed to failure. 
Archie treats friend and foe alike, and once he 
opens his lungs and commences to speak, 
wise men flee. Fools and others remain — to be 
perhaps carried away. 

Civilization is a strange thing, Beth. It has 
taken thousands of years to build it up to the 
state where we had begun to respect life, in- 
dividual rights, and property, and in a single 
moment we retrograde to the primitive being, 
living to kill — the scientific art of destruction is 
our profession. Oh what a world! So close to 
the canvas of war as we are it is hard to keep in 
mind the big underlying principles, — to realize 
that constructive work cannot go on until this 
business of meeting brute force with brute force 
has been accomplished. Not that from one 
standpoint the war is half bad, for as long as it 
lasts the Germans can be killed without question. 
I fear that after the war the soft-hearted and 
those who have neither taken part in the fight 
nor had their loved ones in it, will look upon the 
Hun as a human being, and permit him to thrive. 
He should be ostracized and segregated from all 
honest and honorable men. You remember that 



150 In White Armor 

I left the States without any particular feeling of 
animosity, only determined to do my duty as 
man and soldier. Now I have seen the havoc 
the Boches have made, and I hate them. 

But oh Beth, it is the separation from you that 
I will want to settle for when "peace with victory " 
comes! If only Love, not Hate, could rule the 
world, could reign supreme everywhere! I went 
a day or so ago to see a beautiful cathedral (Ami- 
ens?) partly destroyed by German shell fire, only 
one of many acts of wanton destruction. Oh well , 
Fritz is on his last legs, and M Company will 
knock those out as soon as we get the opportunity. 

Must run along to my work, Beth dear, so I 
will leave you for a time, and write again to-night. 

Your lonely husband, 

Arthur. 

Somewhere in France, 
June 13th. 

My dear little Girl, 

I just had a soul feast, — three dear sweet letters 
from my wife! First, dear little "Bef, " don't 
worry about Boy getting hurt. Nassy old Hun 
won't dare hurt him, 'cause it woujd make his little 
girl so mad she'd scratch his eyes out ! Just don't 
be anxious, Dear. If my usual good luck follows 
me, surely nothing can hurt me. I shall be all 



"Over There" 151 

right, and will return to you some day. Could the 
Great Guide of our destiny decree otherwise? Oh 
my Dear, let us hope that we have nothing greater 
to face than this separation. Only one burden 
could be heavier, and that must never happen. 
Then again, my greatest protection is the love my 
wife has placed about me — invisible, yes, but the 
most powerful force in the world. Such a wonderful 
blessing dear Beth, no man has ever known before. 

Beth, never forget, you have rounded out my 
life. All my dreams came true when I saw you, 
and you gave me your love. You are my guiding 
star. If only I could write it, but ah, you do 
know, and you are thinking this minute of your 
husband, who needs you so much. I try to do my 
work and do it well, but only the shell of Arthur is 
here. 

Now for myself. I am up and feeling extremely 
fine. Went out on a hike with the men to-day, 
and although a little weak and shaky I came 
through in fine shape. What do you suppose is my 
greatest material hardship? The lack of good 
drinking water. I don't like wine or beer or 
cider — horrid old liquor. These people don't eat 
to live, they drink to live. Our company mess is 
very good, but terribly expensive, and even at that 
I don't anticipate having the gout soon. A little 



152 In White Armor 

cookie about the size of a lady finger, costs thirty 
centimes, an orange anywhere from half a franc 
to a franc, and poor at that, and chocolate of a 
quality innocuous to the digestion, I wouldn't 
dare say how much. Altogether tea and a little 
jam three times a day, with, on rare occasions, a 
dietetic lunch thrown in, is no fare for husky 
Sammies, and I begin to fear for the lives of some 
healthy looking lambs that come up to the camp 
site every day. 

Poor Boy always hungry. Let's have a nice big 
dish of scrambled eggs to-night, 'cause my wife is 
the best scrambler of eggs in the world, so she is. 
She can fry 'em also on the top side — perhaps — 
but of that I am not so sure. 

Old bathing-suit back the other day after my 
final effort to lose it. Here it is in its favorite 
nook, at the head of my cot, all cosy and comfy 
in its nice warm bag. But, little girl, much as I 
would like to go on talking to you, I am busy to- 
night and must leave you for a time. Soon we are 
to move about 150 miles hence. "Where do we 
go from here, ' ' Girl ? Oh, I don't know, but I have 
my idea. Good-night, Dear. It is the hour we 
love best, and I am happy in the knowledge that 
my wife is near in spirit in this very tent, looking 
over her husband's shoulder. 



"Over There" 153 

June 19, 1918. 

My darling Wife, 

Your letter with the enclosure of an editorial from 

the has just come. When people like that talk 

about the war, don't listen to them. They talk 
theory, and I for one am sick and tired of the work. 
All of us are ready and anxious to fight, but not for 
the sake of fighting, let me assure the world in 
general! We want to fight because it is in the 
biggest cause this poor old planet has ever known, 
and also because we know that every step forward 
is a step towards peace, and that peace means 
Home and Love. We have no time for much 
speculation, and we know that much talk will not 
win the war. We Americans are fighting men, and 
good ones at that, — or at least so says the German 
who has met us. Go on telling me that you hope 
for a short war. It is the inspiration we most 
need, — that soon, soon we shall return to all that 
we love on earth. They need not worry, those 
whose only interest in the war is to seek fame or 
money. We won't give up until the world is made 
safe from the Hun. Just give us ammunition and 
planes and we will do the rest. 

We have moved a long distance, Dear, and have 
had to send away everything but the barest neces- 
sities. I am writing late at night with my station- 



154 In White Armor 

ery case for a desk against my knees, and by the 
glow of one candle. It is a big French bed with 
many thicknesses of blankets, sheets, yes, and 
white, but of doubtful quality. Everything is 
nice and clean, and the climax is a red comforter, 
not much warmth to it, but Red. There are 
many shades and degrees of that hue, but this is 
the red that makes the ire of a bull register high. 
I have also a door leading out onto a small bal- 
cony, the blinds of which are shut so that the light 
cannot be seen from the street. There are huge 
wardrobes and a mirror over the mantel which 
supports an old-fashioned clock. It ticks the time 
of day, and strikes the hours and half -hours with 
great regularity. All the chairs are straight- 
backed and covered with red plush, and the sofa 
is old rose with many yards of lace draped over its 

dim facade. Not a bad place after all, — but 

We are more than ever curtailed in our references 
to war in our letters, and it is just as well, for I 
cannot think of it while I am writing to my wife. 
The guns make too much noise anyhow. We hear 
them rumble from here, far distant still but con- 
tinuous and once in awhile along comes one that 
sounds like the Congressional Limited on its way 
south, making up its time. I just tried to get 
away from it all and closed my eyes and dreamed 



"Over There" 155 

of that time soon to come when the war will be 
over, and we can be once more happy. I want it 
so! Please don't think me weak in courage for 
writing as I do. My heart must be emptied, and 
to whom can it turn but Beth? 

Candle most gone — sputtering like ! All 

dark now, all dark. Good -night 

At the Front, 
June 9, 19 18. 

Hello little Girl- Wife ! Boy just received a 
most wonderful birthday box, a box so full of love 
that it most burst open before it got to me. The 
miniature is the most beautiful of all, and all the 
little verses are so cute. My wife is so talented 
it's pitiful ! Oh, what a dream of a pipe ! and many 
a happy dream shall I have while I am smoking it, 
dreams of love and home ; and after the war is over, 
I shall smoke the same pipe, seated at the feet of 
my Beth, and between puffs tell her of the days 
and nights spent in the war zone, days and nights 
of a separation that is terrible — pure and simple 
Hell is life without you — but never to be endured 
again. I have the fine new knife and the shaving 
set. Billikin is a dear little dog to send me his 
likeness — cute little Billikin — wish I could see 
him for that would mean I was with You, and 
the Great Ruler knows that that is all I want of 



156 In White Armor 

heaven. Mother Helen's candy too, surely made 
a hit. Real candy — ye gods ! 

Oh my Dear, ' ' Arf ur " is so lonely. Never mind, 
next year we will be together to celebrate the most 
Wonderful Birthday ever known, April 5th. Oh 
for one day, one hour with you ! I was just think- 
ing of our operations last winter, and the only three 
weeks solid we ever had together. Weren't we 
lucky to have tonsils in the first place? They 
could cut off anything I've got for three weeks 
with my Wife ! 

I celebrated my birthday by looking over a very 
pretty section of trench, from which you may judge 
that we are considerably nearer the racket. I 
don't mind it at all — at least not to any mention- 
able extent. I feel like a small boy in a thunder 
shower — I don't mind the flash, but the noise is a 
little disagreeable. Yes, dear Girl, this is a very 
quiet sector — so they say. Seriously it is, Dear, 
and you need feel no anxiety. I keep to our agree- 
ment to tell you the truth always, so far as the 
censorship permits. Our regiment is all together 
again, as is also the Brigade and the Division. We 
like the French, both officers and men alike, but 
instead of continual "Bah Joves" we get "Vin 
rouge ou vin blanc?" Oh, I am an American, 
first, last, and all the time! 



"Over There " 157 

The company seems in great condition, and will 
make a good showing I think — plenty of enthusi- 
asm and dash in them. To be "in action" is not 
half as bad as it is painted, dear little girl, I truly 
mean it. And then soon we will all be coming 
home on Mr. Ford's peace ship, and will have for- 
gotten all about the whole affair. What wonder- 
ful tales the men of the Quartermaster department 
will have to tell ! They see so much, and we so 
little. Would you have liked to have a Quarter- 
master for a husband, Dear? Oh Beth, you are a 
true wife, and in this terrible sacrifice you stand 
with me and are all my inspiration. It is sad for 
you, don't I know it all ? But you would not have 
it otherwise, that I know. It's all a game Dear. 
All we have to do is fight, and that being a natu- 
ral instinct requires little encouragement. I am 
safe and happy and well, so never worry ! 

Some kind aviators are flying overhead, and my 
poor friend Archie is back on the job, trying to hit 
them. The whizz of shrapnel makes for anything 
but a coherent letter. 

Little curl in my money belt has just been out 
talking the situation over, and we agree that we are 
lonesome, but you must not gather from that that 
curl is not brave. It is, I assure you, and not even 
shell fire can bother it. That is not strange either, 



158 In White Armor 

for the shells seldom hit anything. I wish I could 
tell you more, for I know you too are brave, and 
want to be here with me, for you and I are taking 
part together in this struggle for democracy. Then 
too the thing known is often easier to bear than 
the thing imagined. Poor little Girl, my Beth. 
Just think of me as a very happy lucky Boy — and 
now good-night. Let us hope and pray always for 
the day of our reunion. 

France, July 17th. 

Dearest little Wife, 

And how does Little Bethlee feel this nice sunny 
morning? It is warm here, sunny and bright, 
with blue skies like somebody's eyes. I am lo- 
cated in a pretty little French village, or rather 
what used to be one — there is hardly a single 
building that hasn't suffered from shell fire, some 
so severely that they are not buildings at all. ,'My 
company is the only one in this town, and I am 
the senior military power, guarding military depots 
and holding a line of reserve trench — a very fine 
job. Up until a month ago there were six thous- 
and inhabitants living here, but they have all 
moved out for one reason or another — can't 
imagine why. Over four thousand shells have 
fallen here in two months. 



"Over There " 159 

I have the finest dugout you can imagine, 
formerly occupied by the Engineers, so you can 
imagine what a bully place it is. There are five 
different compartments, and plenty of room for all 
my officers, and we wouldn't at all mind fighting 
out the rest of the war here. When Fritz shells, 
I sit inside and enjoy the fun. It is not one of 
those underground affairs. I can see daylight 
from the front, which faces away from the enemy, 
and I have a nice door and window on the outside 
all protected from splinters and shrapnel. There 
is nothing to fear, no danger, and I am lucky to 
have been sent here. 

jThe other day I was sitting with good old P 

of the Machine-Gun Company — remember him? — 
in a front trench, an& he and two or three other 

chaps started kidding me about my wife. P 

said: "Did you know that Hamm here actually 
persuaded an attractive girl to marry him? How 
do you suppose he ever managed it?" At that 
precise moment some Boche airplanes appeared 
overhead and as we were directly in the path of 
the yapping Archies, we adjourned the discussion 
until another time, and took to our heels and our 
dugouts. That sort of thing is not conducive to 
a calm discussion of home and wife, though I was 
quite ready to agree with Parker. But, oh dear 



160 In White Armor 

wonderful girl, how my heart aches for you. I 
am so lonely, and long for the war to be over. I 
believe I am as patriotic as any officer in the Allied 
Army, but I hate war. It is a terrible business, 
and not a gentleman's game — yet we must see 
it to the finish. Nassy old war, so it is. Poor 
girl, and poor boy, both want each other. I 
am not unhappy in any other way, Dear, but I 
want my wife, and I want her "too sweet" as 
Froggie says. Don't know how to spell it but 
that's what it sounds like. Oh how I hate the 
Hun! 

Soon I hope to make some "Good Huns," — 
dead ones. When America comes to life, then 
good-bye Jerry! Chateau-Thierry is only a be- 
ginner. 

I haven't had any sleep for three nights, and my 
eyes burn a little, but I am feeling fine. I had to 
spend one whole night on flat cars, traveling 
thirty miles, but that was the only thing that really 
got a little on my nerves. I picked some pretty 
pansies for you to-day, and am slipping them in 
this letter with a kiss on each one. Please, Little 
Irish girl, talk Irish to me to-night, — please, 
please! Oh soon all that will come again. 

P. S. Curl says to tell you she is lonely but 
not neglected. 



"Over There" 161 

Somewhere in France, 
August 5, 19 18. 

.... I am sending you a present by Colonel 
Rowell, who left yesterday for the States to train 
a regiment, and later to bring it back here. Guess 
what I sent ? No, you are wrong ! It is a German 
non-commissioned officer's belt and bayonet. 
How did I get it? From Fritz. And where is 
he? Where all Germans should be. Have the 
belt made into one for yourself; the buckle, en- 
graved with the Hohenzollern arms, and with the 
legend "Gott mit uns" is very good, and it is a 
real souvenir. You can tell anyone who asks that 
it was not purchased in a shop, but is the real 
stuff. ... Oh Beth, poor Fritz, poor old Hun! 
I had to do it, Dear. You understand, don't you? 
It was a measure of self-preservation, and one 
thing we can be sure of — he is a good Hun now. 

B and I were chosen to make a raid, and 

have been training for some time in preparation 
for it. It was the first of its kind not only in the 
Division but in the entire National Army. It was 
a regular show, "Over the Top, " Guy Empey stuff 
with all the trimmings — box barrage by artillery 
and machine guns, and leaping barrage to follow. 
Well we went to it, and Fritz is in a bad way. He 
won't soon forget what M Company did to him! 



162 In White Armor 

I am afraid "Kamerad" did the poor chaps no 
good with that crowd. I am not surprised that 
the German says the American is a savage and 
ferocious fighter, for he has reason to know it. I 
told my men that I would give them five hundred 
francs for the first machine gun taken in action, 
and I paid out the money joyfully to-day, and the 
gun is in the Colonel's office. I took one machine 
gun myself, cutting it loose with the bowie knife 
that you gave me, and which I keep in the top of 
my boot. I also brought the Colonel a nice 
helmet, the first we have taken. 

Imagine me Beth dear, going out across No- 
Man's land in the nice raincoat you remember, now 
torn to shreds by German barbed wire, "nassy 
old tin hat" on my head and my gun held pretty 
steady to defend Beth and Arthur. In my other 
hand I held an electric flash above my head, so 
that the men could better follow me, and I forgot 
to take cover, but what of that? I am perfectly 
safe, Dear. The Supreme Being that rules our 
destiny could never take me from my litrtle girl, 
and my wife's love all about me is my sure armor 
of defense. 

The whole show was over in about forty-five 
minutes, and I may say it was a good job and 
everyone here is pleased with the result. Best of 



"Over There" 163 

all, not one of my men was killed or mortally 
wounded, — wonderful luck. The other company 
had a little harder time of it on their return. 
Sometime, if my clerk ever gets a moment's time, 
I will send you a copy of the letter written me by 
the Major-General. He also summoned me to 
Headquarters, and said things that made me feel 

very happy — a fine chap, General B . 

Now Dear, I was wounded in the hand with 
shrapnel, but nothing to speak of, and I only tell 
you because of our compact to tell everything, but, 
believe me, it is only just enough to give me a 
wound chevron. All this happened yesterday, and 
I am a little tired to-night. 

August 22, 1918. 

My dear wonderful wife, my Beth, 

I am in a dugout, and to-morrow shall sleep in 
the open, a very lovely woods. While it was yet 
daylight I inspected Metz through my glasses. 
Looks like a pretty town to me, with a large and 
pretentious cathedral. This is a sad bit of country 
though, and if I had my way I would present it to 
Bill the Hun with apologies. It is night here now, 
but not quite dark. A most beautiful and bril- 
liant moon has just arisen, and it is very light — too 
light, in fact, for my patrol to operate successfully; 



164 In White Armor 

however, this patrol is out, and with it my good 
wishes. Many moons have passed since I last saw 
my Beth and perhaps before the next I shall have 
gone to her. I hope so, Dear! If only we could 
kill every Hun at once, how gladly we would do it ! 
It is so selfish of man to create a war of this 
kind; nothing but destruction everywhere, and yet 
Love, the constructive, is my only consolation in it 
all. Such a contrast ! Nearly all involved in this 
war are suffering, even our enemies, but they suffer 
in order to gratify selfish ambition and greed. 
What unwise mortals we are ! I feel over here as 
if greed and cruelty were the predominant charac- 
teristics of the race. We shall realize what we are 
doing too late, and too late recognize the obvious, 
that Love should rule the earth. But we never 
shall, Beth, — Oh Beth, no one ever does! 

Goodness, what a pessimistic and philosophic 
mood I am in to-night — a regular old wiseacre! 
To change the subject, you asked me to describe 
a dugout to you. I am writing you in one, by the 
light of two candles which bid fair to go out soon. 
I have phone connection, but no electric lights. 
"C'est la Guerre." (Rotten French? I have 
plenty more !) This dugout is constructed on top 
of the ground or nearly so. It is about ten feet 
long and seven feet wide, and entering you see 



"Over There" 165 

M 's cot at the left and mine at the right; but 

before we go more thoroughly into the interior 
decorations, let me say that it is made of heavy 
steel covered with cement. The inside is shaped 
like a barrel, and is about six feet high in the middle. 
It looks rather like an egg-crate. There are four 
feet of cement overhead, which is shrapnel proof, 
unless Jerry should register direct hits with several 
shells. The likelihood of that is nil, as we are in 
what is termed a quiet sector. However Jerry 
assures us quite often enough that he is thinking 
of us. 

Our cots and two tables conclude our furniture, 
one of the tables for the use of my signal man, and 

the other for M and me, has the phone and 

buzzer on it. My treasure, my wife's picture, has 
the principal corner, and is at this moment looking 
at her Boy. The floor is of wood and dry and 
clean, and the cots have no covers. Please dear 
little sweetheart, don't let us ever have red com- 
forters on our beds — ye gods, how I dislike them ! 
My poor old raincoat is hanging here, but it has 
lost a good deal of its smart chic appearance. 
German barbed wire played havoc with the skirt 
of it, but I played Hell with Jerry on that same 
memorable day, bless his heart ! 

I must stop now, for my pen is nearly empty, 



166 In White Armor 

and my candles are nearly out. All the love of 
your soldier husband's heart is with you, Dear. I 
shall go outside and look at the stars and the moon, 
and ask them to smile at Beth, and speed my love 
and heart to her. 

August 20, 1 918. 

My darling Wife, 

Am all nice and cosy in a little dugout, and glad 
of it for even the elements are against us to-night. 
A thunder-shower and a fierce-looking one at that 
is approaching. The lightning is very bright and 
quite sharp, the thunder is rolling and sounds 
like the distant rumbling of guns. I don't like 
thunder storms, and never have; wish I were 
where I could have Beth's arms around me. Little 
Boys never like thunder storms, and this one is no 
exception to the rule. Scared? Yes, truly, Dear! 
If Jerry should start shelling in combination with 
it, — well — Mustard gas shelling would make me 
the sorest. That gas stuff is a mighty bad business. 
I saw the effect it produced on men a little while 
ago, and have cursed the Hun, his ancestors, and 
his posterity, ever since. I have seen enough of 
his diabolical deeds, the misery and suffering he 
has caused. 

Wonder what you have been doing all day? 
Did you take a walk with Billikin? I wonder if 



" Over There " 167 

he will remember me and shake hands with me 
when I come home? I am so tired, and want you, 
Dear. I want all that home and Beth mean to me. 
But when all that happiness comes we will treasure 
it the more for the tremendous sacrifice we have 
made. Only we needed none to make us the 
happiest children on earth. 

I have been questioning greatly the advisability 
of your working for the government in any form 
after you get back to the city. I really don't 
think you can stand it. Please dear little Girl, 
don't do anything to injure your health, — please, 

please, — or boy will worry like H , and that 

would never do. If I were anxious about you I 
should have to give up my command, for I should be 
absolutely no good. You are doing your share in 
the war. You have given me and made me what I 
hope I am. You have raised me to the pinnacle of 
manhood, and all that I am in your eyes or to those 
about me, I owe to you alone. I, in turn, have 
trained over two hundred and fifty men, trained 
them personally, and led them over the top, and 
they are now producing results on the line. Your 
work, my work, Our work goes on and on 

The shower has cleared now, but it is still very 
dark, thank goodness, because Fritz can't see to 
drop bombs on our heads. I got plenty of that on 



168 In White Armor 

the British front, and I assure you it is a rather 
trying experience. 

Our day, and our hour, Dear, the day of all 
others when we should be together. It is Sunday 
night at ten o'clock, and I know you are writing 
me. Just think, Dear, we have been married for 
over a year now, and I cannot recall the time when 
we were not one. Nor can either of us recall one 
moment of time when there has been anything but 
perfect harmony of mind and soul between us. 
Must go to bed now, 'cause Beth thinks I am there, 
and wants me to try to rest and I want so much to 
do as she wishes. 

August 25th. 

Dear wonderful Wife, 

Well here I am at last, safe and sound and feel- 
ing very well. Furthermore I have been sent to 
Corps Headquarters to act as Liaison officer on the 

Staff. General B called me over before I came 

up here, and said some complimentary things, that 
made me very happy. So what do you think of 
that, Dear ? Am I holding down a soft job or am I 
not? Well yes, yet it is important and interesting 
too. You might say that I am the " missing link" 
between Division Headquarters and Corps Head- 
quarters. I am glad of the change, for I needed to 
get away from the men for a time. The nervous 



"Over There " 169 

strain is terrible out there. And then, too, this 
gives me a new insight into how, not merely com- 
panies, but Divisions and even armies are handled, 
a new view of the war, the view of those higher in 
rank. My table is covered with maps, right, left, 
and center, nice pretty ones all covered with 
marks. 

After this, if I go back to the line, I shall see 
things in a broader way, but Beth, I doubt if I 
am ever again to command troops. I have come 
near breaking under the strain, as did Captain 

B not long ago. If I can make good here, and 

be sure I will, I shall stay for some time, and the 
transfer from line duty must come sooner or later. 
When the time comes for me to stop, I shall stop, 
so don't be anxious, little worry-girl. Wherever 
I am I am always careful, Dear, and will take care 
of your boy for your sake. 

I am torn both ways, my wife. This work is 
big and necessary, but I believe that every man 
should play his biggest and best cards in this game. 
My men have sent word that they want me back, 
and this is, after all, hardly the job for a leader of 
men. It takes a different type of man to say, 
" Follow me!" and have the soldier go and go into 
Hell-fire. And is this my biggest work, the work 
that is going to send me home soonest ? 



170 In White Armor 

I just received the wonderful gold cigar cutter 
you sent me, and I enjoy taking it out in the face of 
the ' ' Starff ' ' and cutting off all the little ends. But 
my pipe is the beauty, and such a good smoker. 
As for the money, dear, I really did not need it in 
the least, though I have been obliged to loan con- 
siderable to the men, some of whom have received 
no pay since they left America. Also when the 
poor fellows get into the hospital I try to get extra 
comforts for them, nothing much but cigarettes 
and candy, or some little thing they take a fancy 
to have, and I can use this extra money, never fear. 
Only Girl must promise to get all sorts of fall 
clothes, boots, coats, one big fur coat, dresses, — 
oh everything to please me, and that the most 
wonderful girl in the world should and must have. 
If there is anybody inclined to contradict that 
assertion, I have one notch on the butt of my forty- 
fiver, and there is room for plenty more! 

I have had my silver wrist watch cleaned, but 
haven't dared risk my real watch out of my sight 
long enough. My watch that Beth gave me and 
that has her face on the dial. She tells me the 
time always, and it is my greatest treasure after 
Beth's big picture. I also wear the diamond little 
finger ring all of the time, and always shall, and 
as for my wedding ring, wild horses could not drag 



"Over There" 171 

it from me. Ah, well Dear, soon the war will be 
over, and I shall be wearing white flannels and 
sport shirts, and all we are enduring now will be a 
bad dream that has passed. 

From the Last Letter preceding the St. Mihiel Drive. 

I am to return to-day to my company, dear Beth. 
The Colonel is very anxious to have me back, and 
the General says he needs his best line officers in 
the Division. I have done very well here, or at 
least the Chief so says, but if I am needed I am 
glad to go back to my Company. It is only for a- 
while, dear heart. You see we are going to make 
history near here soon. Wish I might tell you all 
about it now, but I shall when it is over. Mean- 
time watch the newspapers, for the Americans are 
going to be the top-liners. 

Girl and Boy in a den before a log fire, in the 
same big chair. Boy telling his dear wife of the 
days and nights spent in the war zone, days and 
nights of Hell never to be spent again. It is as 
it should be — just Beth and Arthur forever and 
ever — happier dreams hath no man ! 



THE LAST CHAPTER 

"For some do hold our Arthur cannot die 
But that he passes into fairy-land. " 

On the eve of the St. Mihiel campaign Arthur 
was suddenly ordered back to his Company. He 
had been attached, not assigned, to the Staff, and 
although his assignment would doubtless have 
soon come, and with it promotion, the Colonel of 
the 326th Infantry felt that he needed every good 
line officer for the coming fight. How Arthur felt 
about it will be evident in his letters. He was glad 
and proud to have made good at Headquarters, 
and for many reasons he would have preferred to 
remain there. He was still too tired to sleep or 
eat. Nevertheless he went back to his command 
smiling and brave, concealing his nervous fatigue, 
and truly flattered and happy to be " needed. " 

His officers and his men were surprised to see 
him, and very glad. Arthur did not explain his 
return, and there was a general impression that 
he had asked for the transfer. The Company was 
already located at the point which it was to hold 

172 



The Last Chapter 173 

during the coming action, and which was the pivot 
of the drive. The town of Lesmenils nearest to 
Metz on the old "Hindenburg Line," consists of 
three hills, the separate groups of houses forming 
three separately named villages, Xon, Hemenville, 
and Royon. The Commander's Post was on the 
dominating height at Hemenville, and the Captain's 
dugout consisted of the ruins of a small farm house. 
The cellar of this house was the only place at all 
sheltered from the terrific bombardment that be- 
gan on the eleventh of September and lasted until 
the drive was a thoroughly established victory. 
The German plan was to break the line at this, its 
most vulnerable and important point, known as 
the Lesmenils Salient, and had they been successful 
Nancy would have fallen, and the American cam- 
paign would have resulted in disastrous defeat. 
Lesmenils was a crucial, vital, and terribly exposed 
section of the line, and it withstood the only serious 
counter-attack attempted by the Germans. The 
officer who described it to me said: "It was more 
terrific than the Argonne, and more depended upon 
us. The only thing that made the Argonne worse 
was that it lasted longer. " 

M Company had orders never to yield. Theirs 
was to hold the line or die, while the Salient so long 
deemed unassailable was wiped from off the Ger- 



174 In White Armor 

man map. After Chateau-Thierry it was the 
initial brilliant achievement of our army, a neces- 
sary prelude to the plan that finally brought vic- 
tory and peace. 

Arthur delighted in the responsibility and danger 
of his post. He found that his Senior Lieutenant 
had already organized the line of defense, and that 
his Company was in splendid fighting trim. The 
rough trenches that they occupied were most un- 
comfortable. They could neither stand upright in 
them nor lie down for sleep, but their morale and 
courage were unshakable. "If one of us was 
down-hearted," says an officer, "the Captain 
cheered us. He was fearless and confident under 
the most terrible conditions that you can well 
imagine." 

An element of danger to the line lay in constant 
visits from hostile airplanes. They flew overhead 
by day, making plans of the important American 
positions, and dropped bombs unopposed at night, 
the Commander's Post being the chief object for 
attack. Direct hits were registered upon the 
dugout, but, as it happened, these occurred while 
the officers were in the cellar, the roof of which held. 
The temporary Company Commander had sent 
back asking for an airplane to support his com- 
pany, and Arthur at once added his urgent request 




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A GALAHAD IN KHAKI 



The Last Chapter 175 

to the Lieutenant's. Not only was there no plane, 
but no anti-aircraft gun — no despised "Archie'' — 
for defensive purposes. During the day the men 
discharged their rifles in rage and despair at the 
planes, which flew so low that the whites of the 
eyes of the German pilots were plainly visible. 

This was the situation on the evening of Septem- 
ber 14th, when the drive was successfully com- 
pleted except for straightening and strengthening 
of the American line. The guns of Metz still 
pounded Hemenville, and Arthur was prepared for 
a possible Infantry attack. He sent out one of his 
Second Lieutenants, Groninger, with a patrol, to 
get in touch with the enemy and report upon their 
position. 

Colonel M came in to see him during the 

early part of the evening, and found him brimming 
over with hearty courage. "He seemed so confi- 
dent and had such firm control of the military 
situation," wrote the Colonel, "that I left him 
greatly relieved and encouraged. He was full of 
life and vitality, glorying in the responsibilities 
devolving upon him in a most difficult and exposed 
position. I parted from him with that warm 
handclasp that I like to remember always marked 
our personal relations, and with the promise to 
see him on the morrow." 



176 In White Armor 

After the Colonel had left, Arthur showed some 
letters and snapshots, just received from me, to his 
Senior Lieutenant, Burch. They both laughed 
over pictures of Billikin, and talked of home and 
love. At half past nine o'clock he went down- 
stairs to write me, and advised Lieutenant Burch 
to follow him and try to get some rest. Here is a 
part of the letter, written by touch in the dark 
upon a Corona typewriter: 

"By the time my little girl has read this letter 
she will have heard of the big push. It has been a 
dandy — and we have accomplished all that we 
hoped. There is no telling where it will end. I 
came back to my Company just before the show. 
I have a very pretty little dugout — pretty for a dug- 
out. It seems to be quite safe. Jerry has done his 
best to knock it in, but so far has been entirely un- 
successful. The furnishings are of the crudest — 
hangings rather scarce, but we are quite contented. 

" Oh, Beth, won't it be heaven when we are once 
more united? My one hope — my one desire is to 
be with my wife. Life without her is hell at best — 
but perhaps we are nearer peace than we dare hope. 
Seemingly we have Fritz on the run, and may all 
of his movements be retrograde! Another year 
surely should see peace with victory, and peace to 
me will mean just one thing, Beth. 



The Last Chapter 177 

"It is rather difficult to get my mind together 
to-night. Shells have been going one way or the 
other and most usually both ways at once for the 
last forty-four hours. Not a bad record to say 
the least, but d uncomfortable ! 

"Please dear little girl, don't try to swim to 
France. I am frightened for fear you may go out 
too far in the nassy old ocean. Please, please little 
girl, do be careful. " 

1 ' Poor little lonely girl ! " he wrote at last— 4 ' And 
yes, poor little lonely boy! Good-night dear 
Beth." 

After slipping my letter into the mail-pouch, he 
mounted to the upper room, and found Lieutenant 
Burch still at his post, writing at a table, quite 
unmindful of the danger. Again Arthur urged 
him to go down into the dugout, remarking at the 
same time that he was anxious about Lieutenant 
Groninger, and thought he would step outside and 
search for him with powerful field-glasses. The 
patrol had gone down into some woods to the 
right, but the moon was shining and Arthur's 
glasses were unusually good. 

Scudding clouds obscured the light from time to 
time, and a fresh wind was blowing. The bom- 
bardment seemingly had lessened in intensity, but 
overhead there was the hum of an airplane, flying 



178 In White Armor 

low. A half demolished wall circled the house, 
ten feet distant from it, and in a depression of that 
wall Arthur stood and looked toward Metz, and 
with his glasses swept the softly-lighted landscape 
for his men. 

Within, Lieutenant Burch prepared to lie down 
on the table, wrapped in his coat, disregarding 
still the Captain's concern for his safety. No 
braver officer fought through the war than this 
loyal lieutenant and valiant leader. He was three 
times wounded, and, like his Captain, fought with- 
out one thought of personal gain, or satisfaction 
beyond the sense of duty well performed. 

Suddenly he heard a frightful crash, and every- 
thing was dark confusion. Stones, grit, and shrap- 
nel showered over him. Before he could think or 
move there came another and more awful explosion 
and the wall of the house fell in. He discovered 
later that he had been wounded, but at the moment 
he only thought to extricate himself and rush out- 
side to find out what had happened. The moon 
was hidden, but in the dark, lying between the 
house and outer wall were huddled shapes. Two 
stirred, and were found to be members of the 
guard, badly wounded. Lieutenant Burch next 
touched the heads and hands of two who lay there 
motionless, and knew that they were dead. "The 



The Last Chapter 179 

hands of one, " he says, "I noticed at the time were 
delicate and slender. It conveyed nothing to me. 
My one idea was to find the Captain and tell him 
that his men were dead." 

He ran back into the dugout, thinking Arthur 
might have entered it unnoticed, calling, "Captain 
Hamm ! Oh Captain Hamm ! Two of your men 
are killed!" A moment's silence and he dashed 
back to the street again and called aloud going 
from man to man and asking if any knew where 
Captain Hamm had gone. "I even looked down 
shell holes in a frenzy, " he told me, "for you see, it 
was the first time death had come to the Company, 
and I had to tell the Captain. " 

Quite suddenly, standing in the nightmare chaos 
of that ruined street, he remembered the feel of a 
slender hand, unlike any other hand he knew. He 
did not need to confirm the dreadful knowledge 
that bore in upon him. "You know, " he said to 
me, "how smooth and sensitive his hand was." 



All that could be done for Arthur in the way of 
love and tenderness was reverently done. At great 
risk, and contrary to orders an ambulance was sent 
for him, and he was carried far behind the lines. 
He was wounded at the base of the neck in such a 



180 In White Armor 

manner as to cause instant and merciful death, and 
on his face, unmarked by the explosion was a look 
of peace and content, as of duty done. The watch 
he so loved had been severed from his wrist, and 
by some strange fatality was found upon his breast, 
just over his brave, loving heart. A piece of 
shrapnel had passed clean through the dial, and 
the hands had stopped at twenty-five minutes past 
eleven. 

All night long details of men were out gathering 
flowers from the gardens of the ruined villages 
of France. The Colonel wrote that there were 
"simply heaps, — not white flowers only, but all the 
brave colors that he loved, " gathered by the faith- 
ful men who mourned a gallant leader. Not all of 
his company could be with him at his burial, but 
as many as could be spared were there, and all 
of his special friends from the regiment. The 
flag he died for covered him to the last, and the 
Chaplain spoke of him with high appreciation and 
understanding. The Colonel also tried to say 
farewell, but his voice failed. The band had 
been recalled from the front some days before, 
and played, they say, more beautifully than ever 
before. 

His resting-place is on the banks of the Moselle, 
in the peaceful and lovely little American Ceme- 



The Last Chapter 181 

tery at Millery. Taps were blown for him, and 
brave men stood at attention with swelling hearts 
to salute the passing spirit of this " bright boy 
knight." 



A TRIBUTE TO CAPTAIN HAMM 

BY CHAPLAIN HYMAN 

326TH INFANTRY 

"I met Captain Arthur Ellis Hamm one year 
ago, when I became the Chaplain of the 326th 
Infantry. He was the commanding officer of 
Company M. He was the first Captain to invite 
me to speak to his men on religious subjects. He 
was the first to contribute to my expenses in the 
interests of the men. It was with him that I did 
my first ministry to the wounded. I was with 
him during the famous raid of August 4th, when 
he led his company so well, and after penetrating 
the German lines brought them back without the 
loss of a man. I was with him at the front during 
the St. Mihiel drive, messed with him and slept in 
an adjoining dugout up to the time of his death. 
A bomb dropped by one of the most daring German 
aviators killed him. I assisted in the preparation 
of his body for burial. I conducted the burial 
service. 

" He loved and was loved. I have never known 
183 



184 In White Armor 

a Captain to interest himself more in his men than 
did Captain Hamm. At Camp Gordon the build- 
ing for housing his men was made comfortable for 
them in many ways at his own personal expense. 
He rented a graphophone and a piano for the 
enjoyment of the men after drill hours. He was 
always cordial in his greetings with officers. I 
shall never forget his smile and his handshake. 

11 He was patriotic and brave. On many occa- 
sions he convinced me that he was in the war 
because he loved his country and wanted to see 
Democracy rule the world. He sought opportuni- 
ties to serve. He led his men into battle. He 
went into exposed place's, ready to do or die. 

"Oh little town of Hemenville! You will be 
remembered for many years, for it was while in 
your defense that Our Beloved Captain gave his 
life. We shall never forget him. The enemy 
destroyed this village until barely an outline re- 
mained. They took the life of this friendly Cap- 
tain, but they have not and they never can destroy 
the memory of him, nor his beautiful influence. " 



From: Lieut. -Colonel Watkins. 

To : Adjutant General, A. E. F. (Through Military 
Channels) . 

Subject : Recommendation of Captain Arthur E. Hamm, 
326th Infantry (deceased) for D. S. C. 

1. For extraordinary heroism in action near Flirey, 
France, on August 4th, 1918. During a daylight raid 
conducted by Companies "M" and "K," 326th 
Infantry, on the enemy lines north of Flirey, Captain 
Hamm personally led his men over the top, penetrating 
the enemy lines to a depth of a thousand yards, and 
bringing in much valuable information concerning the 
enemy. Captain Hamm and his men captured two of 
the three machine guns brought in by the raiding party 
(the first machine guns to be captured by the National 
Army) and secured all of the identifications of the 
enemy brought in that morning. Absolutely unmindful 
of personal danger, Captain Hamm furnished an 
inspiring example to his men, thereby contributing 
largely to the success of the raid. The last man to leave 
the enemy lines that morning was Captain Hamm, who 
remained behind inside the enemy wire until long after 
the last of his men had returned to our lines, making 
certain that none of his men were left behind in the 
enemy lines. 

On September 14th, 1918, during the St. Mihiel 
drive, while holding a portion of the front lines at 
Lesmenils, France, Captain Hamm was killed by a bomb 
dropped from a German plane. 

In recognition of his distinguished services, Captain 
Hamm is recommended for a D. S. C. 

Homer Watkins, 

Lieut -Colonel, Infantry. 

185 



